


And This Is Enough

by dreamofflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cheating, F/M, Happy Ending, Lisa being awesome, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:30:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofflight/pseuds/dreamofflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of Castiel Novak, 27, animator, is kind of boring, his only highlight the sleepless nights when he's working on the animation of his celebrity crush, actor and heartthrob Dean Winchester. He starts reconsidering the monotony of his life, when he actually meets the charming man in person and they start an affair, despite Dean already being engaged...</p><p>Another roleplay between Ines (Camuizuuki) and I.<br/>Art by me<br/>Comments loved and appreciated! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Break time Castiel!”

The hunched over form stretched slowly in his swiveling computer chair, sitting up from his normal position in front of his 3 screen setup, yawning slightly. It was 2 in the morning and Castiel had been working all damn day on this one section of the animation, the lip sync just not quite working properly. It didn’t help that he was constantly getting distracted by the way the actor’s mouth moved over the syllables, that tongue flicking out over his lips when he was pausing between words or phrases. So a 5-minute piece of dialogue that should have only taken a few hours to get the blocking down was taking all day.

“Right, thanks Ruby…”

The night supervisor nodded with a smile and left the room. She was always hovering and making sure Castiel stopped working long enough to eat something and stretch his lean frame, and he didn’t mind because she was nice, friendly, and funny in a way that made him feel at home. And so he did, stepping out of the basement workshop he was perpetually stuck in and up into the freezing night air, hugging his body closer into his charcoal gray peacoat.

“Fuck it’s cold…”

Pale skin is almost instantly brightened, blushed by the wind nipping at it as he walks down the street to the only diner nearby that is open this late, Jack’s All American Burgers and Shakes. Castiel brushes a hand through his messy black hair as he enters, looking around with too blue eyes to spot an empty seat on the far side of the restaurant. Just as he’s about to sit down a bustling group of actors comes laughing into the diner, chuckling and joking with one another.

He freezes when he recognizes a voice, the voice he’s been working with for months, the voice of the actor whose body, face, and eyes he’s memorized and worked over and animated into the wee hours of the morning. Dean Winchester. His heart beats in double time as he turns to look over his shoulder, seeing the actor for the first time in person. Animators never met the actors, it just wasn’t done. Especially not first year facial animators. He stares, his blue eyes wide in shock at seeing the handsome chiseled face so very close to him, a mere ten feet away, and his breath catches as Dean smiles.

* * * *

Since all of them are already tipsy or drunk, it takes the small, noisy group some time to cross the diner and sit down in one of the corner booths.

“First round’s on me!” Dean exclaims and his voice is hoarse and rough from an exhausting, yet heady night. Sam’s just turned 21 and his four years older brother promised him the night of his life. Of course, this was only a stopover, Dean making sure that Sam got something to eat after the dozens of shots he had had at the last club. They pretty much covered everything a legal adult should have done at least once in his life, starting with purchasing copious amounts of alcohol and ending with a lap dance and French kissing at a particularly shabby strip club with surprisingly hot employees.

When the waitress doesn’t show up even several minutes later, Dean gets up again and heads to the bar. He orders burgers, fries, and diet Pepsi’s for everyone and then grins at his friends who started cheering at him.

“I’ll be back in a sec,’’ he tells them loudly, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and exiting the diner through the front door again.

He’s not a regular smoker but there are occasions - and getting a blowjob by a busty, Asian beauty definitely was an occasion - where he just needed the nicotine high. He leans against the wall right next to the door and lights a cigarette, taking a few deep breaths and blowing the fume out in the cold night.

When he enters the diner again, the others had already started eating. Dean makes his way back to their booth, passing a quiet, inconspicuous looking young man who’s sitting at the table right next to them. He notices the guy looking at him and returns his gaze with a flashing smile.

* * * *

That smile, that flashing smile that Castiel had been working so hard the last few months to perfect with what always seemed a rather ineffective way of capturing it, here it was in front of him. And it was directed at him. Castiel could feel his cheeks flush hot under his black rimmed glasses and his stomach was doing acrobats inside him. He felt like he was going to puke.

After taking one shaky breath, he returns the smile, though his is smaller, a little nervous, and far less dazzling than Dean’s.

Castiel looks up as his waitress comes over to refill his coffee and he thanks her by name, having been a regular here at these hours for easily a year now. Different projects but always the same timeline, almost 12 hours a day working in that basement. Castiel had no life, but he seemed to prefer it that way, edging away from the loud people in the crowd and refusing to attend large parties.

How ironic, he thought to himself as he watched the actor who had just passed him, that I should fall fucking head over heels for someone like Dean Winchester. Of course, Castiel had done his research, looking up Dean’s history, his life, his romantic entanglements, at least the ones that were public. But he always felt like there was a huge distance between him and that smile. The closest he ever got were the tapeings of Dean for the animation that he had watched over and over and over.

That is, until tonight. Castiel’s eyes linger on Dean’s, the quirky half smile not leaving his face.

* * * *

Dean’s not even sure why he smiled at that guy. He passes him in what seems like an eternity, time somehow slowing down or standing still, Dean can’t explain. It’s strange. He sits down next to his brother again and snatches some fries from Gabe’s plate, trying hard not to look back at the dark haired man. He’s squirming around restlessly on the small bench for only a few minutes, until Sam falls asleep on his shoulder, exhausted from the long day, and from all the booze. Dean sighs and motions the waitress over to pay. With the help of Gabriel, Balthazar, and Ash, he hauls up the passed out giant and drags him down the small aisle towards the exit. He’s too busy taking care of his wuss brother to notice the quirky customer, eyeing the small group intrigued.

* * * *

Castiel's face falls when he realizes that the focus of his obsession is leaving so soon. He smiles slightly as they carry the huge younger man, the sight adorable.

He hops to his feet before they pass completely and walks to the door to open it.

It’s a funny sight, this geeky dark haired man holding the door to the diner open, standing awkwardly with the same smile as before. He was lean and the worn in jeans, dark blue button up with rolled up sleeves and loosened baby blue tie around his neck just seemed to show that off perfectly. He shifts his weight in his black converse from one foot to the other, gnawing at his lower lip as he waits for them to walk out the door.

* * * *  
“Dude, you’re gonna pay for this," Dean curses, when he almost loses the grip on Sam’s arm and stumbles a few steps, the limp body a burdening weight on his shoulders. When he looks up, he sees that the door of the diner is already open. His eyes travel up the lean body of the dark haired man, reaching his pale face, his apologetic smile. Dean nods and gasps a ‘Thanks man’ before he carries his brother out of the bar and inside the back of Balthazar’s car. He turns around again, giving the helpful stranger a thumbs up, and then slips in the back seat next to Sam. When Balthazar steers the car out of the parking lot, Dean can’t help but look into the rear view mirror and notice the strange look of disappointment on the other man’s face.

* * * *

It seemed like forever before Castiel was able to stop beating himself up for not having the courage to say hello to Dean, but he finally did manage to stop about a week later. Having to continue his work on the facial animation, he found that seeing that gorgeous smile in person made it vastly easier to capture it digitally.

Castiel was doing so well at capturing Dean's small quirks now that even Ruby noticed, and suggested he be assigned to more work higher up the chain. 

And so a week after that he was working with the lead animators on the final touches of a scene from the movie.

As a surprise for the animators and staff, some of the actors were being brought in to view the scene they had just finished. Castiel wasn't told until five minutes before they were set to arrive and was trying his hardest not to hyperventilate at the idea that he might have the chance to see Dean in person again. He checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror just a few minutes earlier, taking in the black slacks, gray button up with its rolled up sleeves, and red tie. His hair was messy as usual, but he had tamed it with a bit of water from the sink before returning to the anxious group in one of the main work rooms. He stiffens as he hears the door to the studio open and turns around to watch the group of famous people walk in from his spot at the back of the gaggle of excited animators.

* * * *

This whole thing was new for Dean. Never before had he worked for an animation company and doing those scenes without a partner, just standing there and saying his lines, smiling and frowning by command was odd. He was glad when his agent told him he’d get the chance to meet the other actors and the animation crew. Maybe talking to those people and seeing what their magic hands and computers made out of his crappy acting would give him an idea how the end result would look. He meets the two other main characters in the lobby of the animation company. Anna, a gorgeous redhead who plays the female lead and Adam, a scrawny but good-looking guy, playing Dean’s sidekick. They seem nice and whilst talking to them, he learns that they’ve done this job a few times. So when they finally take the elevator down to the basement, Dean feels a lot better.  
They follow a narrow hallway, dimly lit and a bit creepy until they reach a small, crowded room. There’s Robert Singer, the director of the movie and his assistant, and behind them a small group of other people, still half-hidden in the dark.

“Hey," Dean says to everybody around and gives the slightly intimidated people an encouraging smile. Only a few people respond and he decides to break the tension by stepping forward, shaking the first man’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Dean,” he says, continuing to greet the other animators, feeling the surprised looks of everybody in this room on him and wondering if this was such a good idea. He reaches out to take the hand of the next person, halting when he recognizes the dark, messy hair and incredibly blue eyes.

“Mr. Nice Guy,” he says after a moment, his face lighting up with a bright smile. “Thanks for the other night, man! Good to see you again!”

* * * *

Castiel swears that the rest of the room can hear his heart beating, because at that moment that’s all he can hear. The thrum-thrum-thrum in his ears sounds like a vast machine or endless ocean, and he’s trying his hardest not to faint when Dean recognizes him. He recognized him, Castiel, and while he didn’t call him by his name, because that would have been the end for Castiel, it was enough.

Castiel smiles, a hesitant halting smile that stops before it reaches 1,000 watts, at that same quirky half smile Dean had seen two weeks ago in the all night diner. The shorter thinner man shrugs and looks up at Dean, nervously pushing his glasses up his nose just a bit. The blue eyes that stare unblinking at him are too intense to truly be hidden by the lenses they currently reside behind.

“Hi.”

His voice is deep, deeper than Dean would probably have expected from someone who looks painfully shy, even though the man carries himself with good posture, back straight but relaxed, he still seems to look awkward just standing there, fidgeting with his tie with both hands.

“I’m… My name is actually Castiel.”

* * * *

Dean raises his eyebrows at that. Everyone else had simply nodded and babbled something inaudible but this guy - Castiel - actually talked to him. He smiles at the stuttered reply and takes a step backwards.

“My name’s Dean Winchester, nice to meet you,” he says and hears Anna and Adam’s chuckles behind his back. He turns around, pointing at his co-workers, introducing them quickly. He feels the tension fading and soon the room is filled with hushed but excited conversation. The director had pulled Dean aside, showing him some program on one of the computers that Dean doesn’t understand. He pretends to, though, nodding from time to time and trying to get away from Robert.

He wants to mingle, talk to the people who are actually working ‘with’ him, wants to see what they made out of his small participation in this project. Finally, Robert’s assistant taps his shoulder and he excuses himself, leaving Dean standing alone in the middle of the room. Everyone else is talking, leaning over sketches and notes - everyone but Castiel. Dean grins when he notices the man standing next to a colleague and Adam, not really paying attention but staring at him, staring at Dean. He walks over, sitting on the edge of a table opposite to Castiel.

“So,” he starts, crossing his arms “What’s your job around here, Castiel?”

* * * *

Castiel wants to stop the world in that moment, with Dean Winchester actually speaking to him, eyes on his, that oh-so-cocky smile just for him. Acknowledging sadly that he can’t though, Castiel decides to make the best of it, and smiles back at Dean.

“I’m a facial animator...I handle the lip sync for most of the character models...specifically Jensen, who’s based on you.”

Castiel seems to relax the more he talks about the animation, his smile less quirky and more full and broad, reaching all of his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes and making a dimple appear in his cheek. He leads Dean away from the group and down the hall to show him his workstation with its handy 3-screen setup and the current work he’s doing- all the fine tweaks on the scene.

“So I basically just study all your facial twitches and the way you say words and phrases, and translate that into animation...”

He looks over at Dean from his spot in his swively chair, glasses having fallen down his nose again. It was then that Castiel realized he had been babbling about animation for a good 15 minutes, having explained the basics of everything from turn-arounds and blocking, to key-frames and skeleton rigging.

* * * *

Dean follows Castiel without hesitation. He’s got no clue what he’s talking about at first but the other man just starts explaining the basics, explaining them so well even Dean gets them, and shows him the model of his character. When after a while Castiel stops talking all of the sudden, Dean looks up from the screen and at Castiel’s face, who seems slightly embarrassed.

“So this is what you’re doing all day? Watching me and learning how I move?”

He sighs and shakes his head.

“Man, that sucks… how are you even able to function after that? I’d be bored to death by now.”

* * * *

Castiel blushes as he stutters, speaking louder than was needed in the small space between the two of them.

“Bored looking at you all day?…But you-you’re gorgeous!”

Castiel’s eyes widen behind the glasses frame and a very tiny ‘oh god’ slips from his lips as he realizes what he just said- out loud, to the face of the man who could probably ruin his career with one call. Castiel turns back to the computer screen woodenly, his jaw set as he swallows around the enormous lump in his throat.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…. his mind starts going a million miles an hour. Why did you say that?! What is wrong with you?! Fuck Castiel, you’re an idiot…The blush in the man’s pale cheeks was obvious even in the dim light in the room, highlighted by the glow of the computer screens.

* * * *

For the first few seconds Dean is completely taken aback, looking at the other man at a loss of words. Okay, he knew he wasn’t ugly - several teen magazines’ “Sexiest Man Alive” awards told him that much - but it was the first time he got a compliment like this from someone he barely knew or another man for that matter. Castiel had turned his back on him, staring at his computer screens, obviously avoiding Dean’s gaze. So Dean clears his throat and pushes himself off the table, standing right next to Castiel and forcing him to look at him.

“Thanks,” he says and smiles a little awkwardly. “You don’t hear that every day, you know?”

* * * *

Castiel smiles hesitantly up at Dean, wanting to go hide in a hole somewhere, just be anywhere but here where he was sure he was going to be either punched or fired. He's not sure which would be worse at this point.  
“Sorry… That’s, that’s gotta be really weird to hear from a strange guy.”  
He chews on his lower lip, something he does unconsciously whenever he’s nervous.  
“It’s just… I’ve been working with tapeings of you for months now…”  
He looks back up into Dean’s eyes, the computer light reflecting off Castiel’s vivid blue eyes, highlighting his smooth skin and very slight stubble.  
“You’re very graceful in your movements. Even when you’re acting angry, there is still this amazing grace to you like I’ve never seen before….”

* * * *

Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Graceful, huh? Well, you’ve seen me staggering through that diner, guess I wasn’t so graceful that night?”

He chuckles to show Castiel - who still seems tense and uncomfortable - that he’s not angry with him. Rather… fascinated… This guy is one of the weirdest people he ever met and yet he’s not annoyed or averse to him.

* * * *

Castiel blushes and smiles, breathing a soft sigh of relief- Dean didn’t think he was a complete weirdo after all.

“Everyone gets drunk, Mr. Winchester…”

Castiel was probably the same age as Dean, but the formality didn’t feel strange coming off his tongue considering their positions. He brushes a hand through his hair and swivels his chair to face Dean.

“So… What made you decide to try voice acting? This is your first role right?”

Castiel was trying to keep the conversation going, but he really had no idea what to talk about, so he went back to what he was comfortable with. Castiel folded his legs up underneath him, crisscrossed, and placed his hands in his lap to try to stop fidgeting like a nervous schoolgirl. Though that was exactly what he felt like in front of the gorgeous tanned actor in front of him- a schoolgirl with a big fat crush. It was humiliating, but by the time Castiel figured out how bad the crush was it was too late to stop it, so he figured ‘fuck it, full speed ahead’ and dived into everything that was Dean Winchester.

* * * *

“Please, call me Dean,” he says, shaking his head “I feel like forty when people call me 'Mr. Winchester'...“

Dean leans back at the wall behind him and looks at Castiel, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Hm, good question... I guess it was my fiancée's idea.”

It's actually true - what Dean doesn't say is that Lisa told him after a particular rough fuck and her exact words were 'Gosh, you could totally dub a porn star!' Of course back then, naked and sweaty Dean laughed at her and told her she's nuts before they did it again. But the idea never really vanished and so Dean had asked his agent and in less than a month Dean got the role in this animation project – he doesn't know much about the story yet but it seems like a big deal.

“And you? You always wanted to become an animator?"

* * * *

Castiel’s face falls for just a split second at the mention of a fiancée… That was news. He hadn’t heard that Dean had proposed to his girlfriend yet. That made it a little more awkward than it was before that Castiel watched those perfect lips move with such a fascination. Even worse, that he had fantasized about doing things to Dean’s chiseled body more than once.

He shook it off mentally and focused on what the man in front of him was saying; smiling when he realized it was about him.

“Actually… I wanted to be a vet. That is, until I realized you can’t always save the animals, you just don’t get magic puppy healing powers just by becoming a vet.”

Castiel laughs and it’s a sweet sound, tinkling and yet masculine all at the same time, the first laugh Dean’s heard from Castiel. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles so wide.

“Then I discovered I was good with my hands… I went from painting to pottery to playing piano and finally landed on drawing. A friend introduced me to flip books when I was in high school and I’ve been hooked on animation since.”

He shrugs and looks down pushing his glasses up his nose again.

* * * *

“Wow, that's a long way you went,” Dean states, nodding approvingly. “I just had no idea what to do with my life so I listened to the people who told me to try acting and – lucky bastard that I am – here I am!"

He looks up when all of the sudden the quiet is disturbed by voices and laughter from the other room.

“I should... I should probably go meet your colleagues,” he then says, pushing himself away from the wall and walking over to the doorframe. “C'mon, you gotta meet Anna and Adam!"

With that, he exits the small room, returning to the main animation office.

* * * *

Castiel gets up slowly, not so sure he wants to go back out into the larger group of people, he does so much better alone or in smaller groups.  
He follows Dean anyway, watching the way the actor seems to saunter down the hallway, slightly bowlegged. Castiel makes mental notes about how he moves, how Dean’s hips rotate as he walks.  
Castiel furrows his brow in concentration as he stares at Dean’s gait.

* * * *

The rest of the evening – Dean has to admit – isn't half as interesting and fun as the conversation with Castiel had been. He's in the middle of a boring conversation about sales figures and marketing strategies when his cell rings. It's Lisa. He talks to her shortly and promises to come home soon. When he hangs up, he tells the small group he had been talking to, that he has to go and after shaking their hands, he turns to leave the room. Scanning his surroundings, he tries to spot Castiel but can't see him. Biting his lip, he ponders for a moment if he should go looking for him – then he just shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't wanna bother the other man when he's obviously not that interested in this party. Leaving the basement, he collects his leather jacket and the dark blue scarf from the wardrobe and puts them on. It's still freaking cold outside.

* * * *

Castiel watches Dean leave, his eyes never leaving the retreating figure as he exits the room. Finally, someone snaps him out of his daze, shaking Castiel's shoulder gently. "Cas! Geez man, where is your head?" "Sorry..." He smiles sheepishly and attempts to pay attention to what the group is saying, but his eyes constantly wander back to the door, hoping that Dean would come back in, and his mind can't stop remembering that smile that had been focused on him so much tonight. By midnight, it's obvious that Dean isn't coming back, and the party wraps up, Castiel returning to his work in his little cubbyhole.

* * * *

Dean spends the rest of the week with interviews and promo shoots for an upcoming movie. He's doing a radio interview when he is asked about the synchronization work he's been doing recently. "Well, I didn't really know that much about this job...” Dean admits and smiles at the interviewer. "About how this whole process works, how the lines I'm doing at the studio come together with this animated character. But I met some people of the animation crew last week and they've really done an awesome job so far. They even managed to make me understand what exactly their job was, so - I'm really only saying my lines but those people are doing the real magic!"

* * * *

Castiel feels like his life has become some kind of weird rollercoaster. Before three weeks ago, he never would have thought he'd even get the chance to meet Dean Winchester, and now he'd seen him twice in that span of time. Would there ever be a third time? Castiel hoped so, secretly yearning to speak to the man again.

Dean was smarter and nicer than the tabloids said, but Castiel had expected that. What he didn't expect was that Dean would have a sense of humor, or that he would listen the way Castiel had felt he had, with rapt attention. Castiel spent the week since the party finishing up more animation, and the movie was slowly but surely coming together. It was a 3D retelling of the Odyssey, with Dean Winchester's gorgeous voice giving life to Odysseus.

Castiel sighs to himself and brushes his fallen hair out of his face, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. He's been at the computer too long again. Before Ruby can even give him her customary glare to remind him to take a break, Castiel heads out into the winter cold wrapped in his pea coat and a bright blue scarf that matches his eyes. Some food at Jack's Diner sounded fantastic at that moment.

* * * *

It's Friday night and Sam's girlfriend Jessica asked Dean's fiancée to join her friends on a ladies night. So Dean and Sam decide to have some drinks as well. Since his big hangover a few weeks ago, Sam is pretty averse to large quantities of alcohol, so they soon leave the bar and Sam takes a cab back home. Dean stands outside the bar, not yet sure what to do or where to go, when his stomach rumbles.

"Dinner it is then,” he grins to himself and calls a cab. He doesn't know why but he's in the mood for cheap fast food and maybe... yeah, maybe that animator guy with the weird name will be there too. It starts snowing while the cabbie drives and when he gets out of the car, he sprints over to the diner and tumbles inside. There aren't many people here but it doesn't take Dean long to spot the person he was looking for. He flashes a smile at the other man, who's sitting in a corner booth and looking at him with a mixture of shock and surprise, and leans over the counter to order a burger and fries. Then he shakes the snowflakes off his head and heads over to the dark haired man, shrugging off his coat while he's walking.

"Hey,” he greets him, brushing a hand through his damp hair and smiling a bit awkwardly "Are you... uhm, is this seat taken already?"

* * * *

Castiel has to put down his own turkey burger, his hands are shaking so bad as Dean walks, no, saunters over. There’s no other way to describe that bow legged walk in Castiel’s mind. Dean fucking saunters, he belongs on a catwalk with high fashion clothes and dark brooding makeup and- Castiel clears his throat as Dean speaks, hoping the flush in his cheeks isn’t too obvious.

“Yes... I mean…no, it’s not taken, feel free.”

He smiles shyly, his insides tied in a knot. Dean Winchester was here again. It seemed like he was going to continue to pop into Castiel’s life at the most random of moments, and Castiel found himself unable to stop the excitement that’s bubbling up inside of himself.

“It’s snowing?”

Stupid. STUPID, he thinks to himself, but can’t take it back now, so just rolls with it. Dean’s wet hair and the quickly melting flakes on his jacket are evidence that it’s snowing, but Castiel didn’t know what else to say. Maybe Dean would lead the conversation this time, and Castiel would have the treat of listening to his gorgeous accent in person.

* * * *

He throws his jacket on the bench and sits down opposite of the other man.

“Uhm, yeah, I think it just started,” he answers while he's taking off his scarf and leather gloves. “Look, it's embarrassing but I... can't quite remember your name. It's kind of a weakness; sometimes I even forget my agent's name!"

He realizes he's babbling and falls silent again, then he shrugs a little awkwardly and folds his hands on the table.

* * * *

Castiel laughs and smiles before tilting his head to one side and speaking with a bit of a teasing tone.

“I understand…It’s Castiel….and you’re Dean Winchester, right?”

He jokes trying to lighten the mood because he can see that Dean feels awkward about forgetting his name. Inside he’s a little hurt, but honestly, he should be happy Dean even wanted to sit next to him after the last time they met ended so awkwardly. He picks up a fry and munches on it while looking out the window, pushing the blinds aside with a hand so he can watch the snow flurries drift past. They twist and swirl around one another, tiny eddies in the wind making them dance across the street in the lights from the neon signs in the window, and the moon. Castiel gets a bit lost watching them; he always does whenever nature presents something extraordinary for him to observe.

* * * *

"Castiel," Dean says, grinning at the other man's words "And yeah, I'm Dean – I'm honored you remembered."

He wants to say something else but the moment he opens his mouth, Castiel turns away, silently eating and looking outside. All of a sudden, Dean feels very uncomfortable. Suddenly he's not so sure it had been a good idea to join Castiel at dinner. But after their last meeting he'd been under the impression that they had good chemistry and he has to admit that he's a bit disappointed...

“Uhm, I can... you know, if you prefer eating alone I can just...“

* * * *

Castiel stumbles over himself to make sure Dean knows he’s welcome.

“No...No, really it’s fine!…Sorry, I’m just not used to eating with someone else?…I work odd hours, well you know that, but…Sorry. Um...None of the other animators really talk to me. I’m the new kid. So I eat alone a lot…I’d love it if you’d stay.”

He smiles a kind of ‘sorry I’m so pathetic’ smile and bites his lower lip.

* * * *

“Okay – but you gotta tell me, if... when I'm annoying you, okay?" Dean says and raises his hands. “I have the habit of talking more than I should and the only people who're really good at handling that are my brother and my friends – so either slap me or throw a drink in my face, that should do the trick!”

Castiel actually laughs at that and Dean feels a lot better than just a minute ago.

“So tell me,” he mumbles a few minutes later when his food's finally there “...are your colleagues really that cruel? I mean you're new but that's not your fault, is it?”

* * * *

Castiel smiles softly and shakes his head a little, looking down at his food.  
“It’s pretty normal in the industry… We move around a lot, so no one really gets too close...”  
He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink before speaking again and laughing, shrugging as if it's not a big deal that he's ignored by the others.  
“I’m kinda shy too.”

* * * *

Dean snorts and leans a bit forward to look straight in Castiel's eyes.

“Doesn't matter if you're shy or not – I think it's horrible to leave people out! What's to say against hanging out during lunch or... well, dinner break? It's sad that they don't even make an effort to include you...”

He bites his lip, shaking his head energetically. People really piss him off sometimes. He leans back again, staring out the window for a while, before turning to look at Castiel again.

"You know what?"

He fumbles in his jacket pocket, pulling out his cell.

“If they let you have dinner alone again – gimme a call! I'll join you, if I'm free!"

* * * *

Castiel flushes bright pink and stutters.  
“S-seriously?”  
Dean Winchester was going to give him his cell number. His personal cell number. To him, Castiel, a geek with the biggest crush in the world. Of course, Dean didn’t know that, at least not the extent of the crush.  
“I’d....I'd like that.”  
Castiel smiles as he pulls out his own cell phone and makes a new contact, careful to hide the screen, which has a poster from one of Dean’s movies as the background.

* * * *

Dean grins and nods.

"Sure, why not? You're not gonna give it to the press though, will you?"

He winks at him, and then quietly reads the digits of his phone number to him – he changed it so often in the past few years that it's impossible for him to actually remember it. When Castiel has saved his number, Dean slides his phone back in his pocket and continues eating his food. The burger's already half cold but he still enjoys every single bite of it.

“So, apart from the stupid colleagues – how's work going? I hope I'm not giving you too much trouble."

* * * *

By now Castiel is finished with his food, so once his phone is safely tucked, like the most precious treasure on the world, back in his pocket, he orders a coffee from the waitress.  
“Actually, since I have you here can I ask if you’d be willing to come into the studio to re-tape a few lines? They didn’t capture all the facial expression I think I need for the character…next time your schedule is free of course.”  
It was an excuse to see Dean again, and Castiel knew it, but reasoned with himself that it was at least a little true. The more time he spent with Dean the more he notices about the small things. How the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, or how his brow furrowed when he was reading off the number from his phone. Small things that Castiel found intoxicating.

* * * *

Dean purses his lips, thinking for a moment. Then he pushes the tray with the ice-cold remnants of his food away and smiles at Castiel.

“I'm free now,” he says, not sure if he's teasing or if he actually means what he's saying. After all Castiel said he's working very late and he's just on dinner break right now...

* * * *

Castiel blushes and shuts his mouth so he doesn’t gape at Dean from his willingness to do the re-taping right then.  
“Um… Sure! We’ll have to make sure one of the sound stages is available, but I know how to work the equipment, which is good ‘cuz none of the normal guys are around at this time.”  
His coffee comes and he sips it, wincing and putting it down before touching a hand to his mouth.  
“Hot.”

* * * *

“Great,” Dean says and crosses his arms behind his head, watching Cas taking his first sip of the coffee he ordered and wincing with pain. “Ouch – careful, tiger!”

He considers getting something to drink as well, feeling a little weird watching the other man drinking his coffee. He settles with talking to him though.

“So you're like an all-rounder? Is there anything you can't do?”

* * * *

Castiel wants to say ‘not lust after amazingly attractive straight engaged actors’, but settles for smiling and saying,  
“Yeah, actually… I’m really not that great with visualizing things… I’m good with making someone else’s ideas come to life, but I’m not that creative on my own.”  
He shrugs and looks Dean in the eyes, something he doesn’t do very often out of shyness.  
“I’m a techie geek I guess.”

* * * *

Dean just shrugs at that, pointing at himself.

“Guess why I started acting? Never been the brightest or most talented guy, actually I had no idea what to do with my life and this acting thing was kind of my last chance to avoid being a job- and homeless burden to society.”

He notices that Castiel finished his coffee so he waves the waitress over to their table and they pay.

“Okay then – shall we go?”

* * * *

Castiel raises his eyebrows in surprise, amazed that Dean had such a low opinion of himself- most of the actors he’d heard about thought they were gods.

“Well, it was a really good decision…”

Castiel stands up and straightens his striped white button up, the iridescent stripes only noticeable when he shifts to put his coat on.

“Okay…”

They walk back to the studio, the three blocks there filled with idle conversation, mostly Castiel asking about what it was like to work with other famous people, and what the Oscars was like.

* * * *

Dean sighs when Castiel asks him about the Oscars.

“I hate those award shows,” he admits “All the women wear the most fucking expensive robes and jewelry and it's really only about being seen – and nobody actually cares about the acting skills, some genres never even get nominated...”

When they reach the studio, Dean follows Castiel down in the basement, feeling slightly weird. Now that they're here, Dean's not sure this was the best idea. He doesn't even know the man and from what he told him, he's not very popular or well liked. And still he came. Cause – call it intuition – Dean liked that guy and there was no reason for Dean not to like him.

* * * *

By now Castiel has warmed up a bit more to Dean, and he smiles and laughs freely. His smile seems to light up his serious face, dimples showing up and his eyes crinkling at the edges.

He gets Dean set up in the sound booth with video cameras filming him from three different angles, a mike hanging from the ceiling for Dean to read his lines into.

Castiel walks out to grab the script for Dean, rolling the sleeves to his shirt up and untucking it, more comfortable this way.

“Okay,” he says after walking back in and handing Dean the script.

“So just like last time you did this, I’ll be in the booth filming and recording, so just let me know if you need anything okay?”

* * * *

“Uhm...” Dean clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot a bit uncomfortable “It would be great if you told me what I should take care of – I mean, I'm re-doing those because you need something specific I didn't do last time, or did I get it wrong?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“I just wanna do it right this time.”

* * * *

Castiel opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates and licks his lips while frowning.

“Well, just the highlighted portions. I really want you to act it out, over exaggerate. It will translate better into 3D the more I see…”

He smiles and shifts his weight back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, tucking his hands into his back pockets nervously.

“I love how subtle your facial expressions are in everything else... But for this I need you to really, really work it.”

He smiles and then reaches up to brush one hand through his hair.

“Does that make sense?”

* * * *

For a moment Dean is taken aback by the way Castiel speaks. He seems fascinated, almost... almost enchanted when talking about Dean's acting and Dean's not sure if he feels flattered or intimidated. He settles for a smile and nods.

“I guess,” he says and gives Castiel a thumbs up, who disappears out of the door and re-appears at the other side of the glass window.

Dean gives his best the next 40 minutes, doing take after take, trying to fulfill Castiel's orders as best as possible. Finally the other man signals him that he got what he wanted and Dean walks over to the door and out into the smaller room.

“I could really use a drink now,” he says, his voice a bit hoarse.

* * * *

Castiel gave Dean a thumbs up as he left the booth, a smile on his face.

“Perfect, that will be great… Um, well, did you want to go to a bar? My treat?”

Castiel stands up and shuts everything back down, turning off all the lights and equipment with a master kill switch at the door after opening it to the hallway, letting the hall light in. He’s leading the way out of the room while looking back at Dean over his shoulder.

* * * *

Dean cocks an eyebrow at Castiel. Actually he was just asking for a glass of water or something to take care of his dry throat – but having a drink with Castiel sounds pretty good so he just nods and follows the other man. He's just slipping on his thick leather jacket when he looks up and sees Castiel looking at him over his shoulder. He grins and winks at him, not sure what else to do and Castiel quickly turns around. They don't say a word until they're outside again.

“You have a place in mind?” Dean asks and stops, lighting himself a cigarette. He reaches out a hand to offer Castiel a smoke too.

* * * *

Castiel shakes his head no to the cigarette and walks towards his car, a bright blue Honda fit, almost the same color as his eyes. He turns around and speaks to Dean, far enough away now that the smoke won't bug him.

“There’s a pretty good bar about a mile from here… it’s still snowing though so I figured I’d drive us.” He hadn’t even thought about water, though later he would probably be rethinking the sentence and smack his forehead for being so stupid as to not understand what Dean really meant.

* * * *

“Sounds great,” Dean says, taking in another breath of the light smoke “Just gimme a sec.” He finishes smoking and bends down to put the last bit of the cigarette out in the snow beneath his feet. Then he walks over to a bin and drops the cigarette in it. When he returns to where Castiel had been waiting beside his car, he notices the surprised look on his face and Dean just shrugs. 

“I hate when people throw their litter around when there’s a trash can in walking distance,” he says and walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and slipping in the slightly warmer inside of the car.

* * * *

Castiel had been leaning against the outside of his car, trying not to stare too much at Dean’s hands and lips while he smoked. He had to admit to himself that Dean was surprising him left and right. Castiel knew that he was gorgeous and handsome and so many other adjectives… But now he knew that Dean was also a good big brother, hated the superficiality of the Award shows and cared about picking up after himself. Castiel starts the car and pulls out carefully, it only takes them 10 minutes to reach the bar, park and walk inside. The bartender tells them that they’re about to close as it’s 1:50 in the morning. “Damn… I didn’t realize how long I kept you…”

* * * *

Dean bites his lip and curses. “It’s okay,” he says, looking at Castiel with a small smile “I had fun. It’s not like you dragged me back to the studio against my will.” He contemplates what to do for a moment, then goes over to the barkeeper and talks to him insistently. A minute later he and Castiel leave the bar with a bottle of whiskey, Dean grinning widely. “So, we got the juice - now all we need is a dry place and two glasses - but I wouldn’t mind drinking out of the bottle either!”

* * * *

Castiel beams, blushing as he unlocks the car. “My place isn’t too far… As long as you don’t mind a bit of clutter…” He climbs into the car and starts it, shaking his hair back out of his face. The melting snowflakes in it made it’s normal crazy spikes fall down in messy locks over his forehead. While the car is warming back up Castiel takes his glasses off and cleans them with the edge of his shirt. With his glasses off Castiel’s eyes are even brighter, his thick lashes and under-eye circles obvious.

* * * *

“Awesome!” Dean exclaims and follows Castiel back to the car, slipping inside. He looks over while the other man’s cleaning his glasses and without thinking reaches out to hold him back from putting them back on.

“Have you ever considered modeling?” he asks, grinning widely at Castiel’s shocked expression.

“Dude, your eyes are incredible! You could sell just about anything with those! You should really get contacts!”

* * * *

The flush that overcomes his pale cheeks is obvious even in the dim light from the dashboard of the car. "I- um... I'm not really that outgoing..." Castiel flicks his eyes up to Dean's then down to where Dean's hand is holding his, keeping him from putting his glasses back on. "I do have contacts though; they're just hard to put in...but...um.... I do need these to drive now though, Dean." His smile becomes teasing as he looks Dean in the eyes again.

* * * *

Dean pulls back his hand, raising it apologetically.

"I'm not suggesting you should quit your job for modeling - I'm just stating a fact here." He grins, sliding back onto his seat and fixing his seatbelt "And it's not that you look too repulsive with the glasses, too,” he adds teasingly.

Castiel's blush becomes more obvious and somehow, Dean doesn't mind, has to grin when he averts his gaze and looks out of his window. Castiel hadn't been lying when he had said that his place was not far. It takes them about 10 minutes until they reach his neighborhood and once they find a parking lot they leave the car and walk over to the apartment building where Castiel lives.

* * * *

Castiel leads the way up to his apartment on the 7th floor. Once the door is open, he kicks his shoes off into a neat pile by the door and hangs up his wet coat on a coat rack behind the door. "Go ahead and hang your coat up, it'll dry off over the heat vent there." Castiel shuts the door behind them and starts turning on lights as he makes his way further into the apartment. It’s a corner apartment with tall ceilings and windows lining two of the cream-colored walls. The furniture is shades of dark browns and navy, offset by white and blue rugs and gray curtains. Castiel walks into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses filled with whiskey stones, cube shaped stones that you freeze to chill the whiskey, without watering it down like you would with ice. "Here you go Dean."

* * * *

"What a service,” Dean comments when Castiel brings the glasses and he takes his. He opened the bottle while Castiel went to the kitchen and now pours some in each of their glasses. Still standing in the small living room he raises both of the glasses, handing Castiel one and then clinks them together. "To a successful night,” he says cheerfully, downing his glass in one belt. The liquor soothes his rough throat and he immediately reaches out to pour himself another one and another one after. It doesn't take him too long to get a little tipsy and he sinks down cross-legged on the fluffy carpet. "So, you're living alone here?" he asks, his tongue already a bit slurred.

* * * *

Castiel smiles and nods. "Yeah, I used to have a roommate, Jimmy... But he moved out when he got back together with his wife... The extra bedroom is now just my office." He's surprised Dean has gotten tipsy that fast- he assumed Dean would have a higher alcohol tolerance. Of course, Castiel was still sipping his first glass. "Thanks, by the way... I should be able to make the character a lot more expressive with the takes we took tonight." Castiel sits with one leg up, his ankle resting on his knee, seeming so much more comfortable at home. With Dean as close as he is now, and with not having to really focus on anything, he takes his glasses off to rest his eyes.

* * * *

Dean nods and takes another sip of whiskey.

"I used to live in a shared flat with a buddy of mine for a while... didn't go to well since he was kind of messy and I hate when you can't see the floor underneath all the litter." He shrugs and leans back, resting his back against the couch. He smiles absently when he notices that Castiel took off his glasses again. "So... you got a girlfriend?"

* * * *

Castiel almost chokes on his whiskey and coughs, covering his mouth while he swallows. His voice is raspy when he speaks, his eyes flickering from his glass to Dean and back. "Uh.... No, no I don't." He wasn't sure if he should confess just how gay he was right then, so kept his mouth shut. Castiel quickly finishes his glass and pours himself another.

* * * *

Dean bites his lip. Seems like he touched a delicate subject right there.

"Sorry,” he murmurs, shrugging his shoulders "It's none of my business!"

He doesn't mention it again for the next one and a half hours and Castiel seems pretty much back to his normal shy but nice self. When Dean looks at his watch again it's past 4 and a gasp escapes his whiskey-wet lips.

"Shit, I gotta go,” he curses as he's trying to get up quickly and not succeeding very gracefully. "Lisa's gonna freak out!"

He shuffles to the door, grabbing his jacket and scarf and putting them on hazily. Turning around he flashes Castiel an apologetic smile.

"Thanks for having me, man. And..." He thinks for a moment, then winks at the other man conspiratorially "my offer still stands: call me when those jerks at work ignore you too much, okay?"

* * * *

Castiel has enjoyed their time together, becoming almost completely relaxed as they talk. "Oh... Yeah... It is late..." Castiel had completely lost track of the time, and his heart sunk when Dean jumped up. He stands up, wavering just slightly. "How are you getting home? Can I call you a cab?" Castiel walks over to stand beside Dean, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

* * * *

Dean nods. His view is totally blurred, so he leans closer to watch over Castiel's shoulder when the other man selects the taxi company's number from his cell's phone book. "Thanks,” he mumbles when Castiel hangs up and Dean raises a hand to pat his back. "And thanks for tonight." When Castiel offers to bring him downstairs though, Dean shakes his head. "I'm okay, really... just gotta take it slow... you'll be in touch, okay man?" And then, following his instinct, Dean leans forward and wraps his arms around the other man, hugging him tightly. "Goodnight, Cas,” he says, not even noticing he's using a nickname. He leaves the apartment and stumbles down the stairs, leaning against the wall in front of the house until the cab comes to pick him up. Lisa's fast asleep when he finally slips inside the bed and he's grateful for it. He falls asleep almost immediately; the image of bright, blue eyes the last thing on his mind.

* * * *

Castiel's heart races when Dean hugs him, and he hesitates for a moment before hugging the man back, breathing in Dean's scent as subtly as possible. When Dean slurs the name Cas as a nickname, Castiel thinks he's going to faint, but manages to hold himself together until Dean is gone. Then he covers his mouth to hold the excited laughter back, and sinks to his knees in the entryway. Dean Winchester has been in his house, had drank whiskey with him, had hugged him, and given him a nickname. That morning as the alcoholic haze drifted over his mind, Castiel was fairly certain no one would blame him for fantasizing about Dean's lips and tongue, his strong hands and lean hips... Castiel comes hard, screaming, to the thought of Dean shoving him against his apartment walls while stroking himself in his too big bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sleeps badly this night. It only gets worse when he wakes and his head feels like it's exploding. Too much whiskey. Definitely too much. He tries to remember how he got here but fails. All he knows is he and Castiel had been to the studio and downed a dozen of shots at Castiel's place. Breakfast is awkward cause even after explaining to Lisa where he'd been last night it doesn't really cheer her up and she sort of ignores him all day. He feels bad not being able to talk to her as usual but he doesn't really get her problem with him having a drink with a friend... or a colleague for that matter. Still he tries to make it up to her, spending as much time with her as possible and not going out without her for the whole next week. It's Sunday and he hasn't seen or spoken to Castiel at all. He feels guilty, even though there's no real reason. It's not like they're best friends or something. It just... feels weird...

* * * *

Castiel waits for Dean to show up out of nowhere again like the last few times, but he doesn't. Castiel finally breaks down on Sunday afternoon and sends Dean a short text. 'Hey Dean, the takes we took turned out great! Thanks again! Hope you didn't have too bad a hangover... You were pretty far gone when you left the other night...' He sends it and almost immediately regrets it. Was he being too familiar? Castiel sighs and runs a hand over his face, leaning back in his chair. He's at home, relaxing after spending the morning cleaning up his apartment on a rare day off from work.

* * * *

Dean startles when his phone vibrates on the table in front of him. Lisa's out having lunch with her parents - who're not all that fond of Dean - and being home alone always weirds him out and makes him hypersensitive. He pulls the phone over to read the text and smiles. Even without recognizing the number he knows immediately who the sender is and without hesitating he texts him back: 'My head felt like a firecracker for a few days but I'm ok now. Hope I didn't do anything embarrassing...?'

* * * *

Castiel smiles and quickly responds, typing as fast as his fingers can go.

‘No, you were fine. If you’re not busy you want to grab some lunch?’

Castiel’s heart clenched in his chest as he sends it- hoping that Dean wouldn’t find it weird to be hanging out during daylight hours, on a Sunday.

* * * *

Grinning Dean leans back in the armchair in his living room an replies.

'Are you kidding me? I'm bored as hell, gotta get outta here! Where and when? (just make sure the place is open this time ;) )'

* * * *

'Give me half an hour to shower and dress and I'll meet you at Jack's?' May as well go with what was becoming 'their' restaurant. Castiel hops up off the couch and showers quickly, taking twice as long as normal to choose his clothes, settling for well fitting jeans, a brown belt, and a navy blue button up under his peacoat. He styles his hair like normal, but skips the glasses, choosing to put in his contacts instead. He makes it to Jack's in 28 minutes and parks out front, taking in the gray sky that hadn't started snowing just yet, but the weather had said that it should start clearing up as Spring got closer. Castiel had spent a pretty lonely Christmas and New Year's- he was happy to have a new friend, even if it was one he was secretly lusting after in the worst way.

* * * *

Dean only types back an 'Okay' and gets up to get dressed properly - sweatpants not really suitable for a diner, even if it's only at Jack's. Thirty minutes later he pulls into the parking lot in front of the diner, parking his '67 Chevrolet Impala right next to the door. He jumps out, locks the car and hurries inside the restaurant. Looking around he spots Castiel who seems to have just gotten here as well and walks over to him, hand stretched out. "Hey,” he greets him, shaking his hand and smiling at him "Good to see you, man! How are you?" They walk over to the small booth in which Dean, his brother and his friends had sat the last time they had been here and Dean waves the waitress over to order a diet Pepsi.

* * * *

The first thing Dean probably notices is Castiel’s bright smile, or possibly that he had taken Dean’s advice and was wearing his contacts. Castiel’s heart sunk when he didn’t get a hug from Dean, and he quickly realized that it only happened last time because Dean had been incredibly drunk. It would probably never happen again. Castiel swallowed around the disappointment that seemed to fill his throat, and sat back down opposite Dean in the booth.

“Vanilla shake and a cheeseburger, please.”

He felt like something sweet in the moment, perhaps to soothe the ache he was feeling at being shoved back into acquaintance-ville from what he thought was budding-friendship-city. Castiel waits until the waitress leaves before turning back to Dean and smiling.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to be bored. You always seem so busy.”

* * * *

Dean shrugs, looking down on the menu trying to decide what to eat. His manager put him on a diet so burgers are off limits for a while.

"I usually am - but my management didn't schedule anything for this weekend and my fiancée's out with her parents so... I'm all yours!"

He looks up, grinning at Castiel and after a few moments finally realizing that something's different.

"You're wearing contacts!" he exclaims, probably a bit too excited regarding the subject but still he can't wipe the huge grin off his face.

* * * *

Castiel's head swims with the words 'I'm all yours' for a minute until Dean's outburst about his contacts. Then he just blushes and ducks his head slightly, thankful that the waitress had come back with his shake and to take Dean's food order. Castiel listens to them talk, thinking about Dean's hands, which he can see at the edge of his vision with his head down like this. He absentmindedly sticks out his hand and scoops up a bit of the whipped cream that tops his shake with a long thin index finger before bringing it to his mouth and popping it in. Castiel rarely indulges in sweets, preferring a good steak or mashed potatoes or a hearty soup, but the whipped cream on this shake is perfect. He shuts his eyes and leans back, making a small sound of happiness around his finger before sliding it out of his mouth, cleaned of the cream.

* * * *

With a heavy heart, Dean orders a large turkey salad and extra bread and then leans back to watch Castiel for a moment. He chuckles at the content look on his face as he's licking the whipped cream off his finger. "Get a room you two,” he jokes, reaching out for his glass and taking a few sips of his Pepsi. After a while, he decides to ask about the progress of the animation. "So those extra takes we did actually helped you? I can't imagine doing your job, it sounds so... exhausting! I mean all I'm doing is standing in front of the camera and do as you say and you have all the work with transporting my facial expressions into animation..." He sighs, taking another sip from his drink, slightly frowning. "No offence, but you look deadbeat! You don't get too much sleep, do you?"

* * * *

Castiel shakes his head slowly and clears his throat.  
“Um...no...I have insomnia. That's one of the reasons I work nights, I found I couldn't sleep anyway so I might as well just work. At least then I wasn't just sitting at home, bored.”  
He takes a sip of his shake and looks up at Dean, wondering if Dean ever had issues sleeping as well.

***

Dean nods while looking at Castiel with sympathy.

“Hm, that sucks…,” he says, biting his lip pensively. He’s lost in thoughts for about two minutes. 

Then a smile spreads on his lips and he looks up with sparks in his eyes: “Listen, I’m having a barbeque next weekend - it’s nothing big, only a bunch of friends and some family. Would you like to join us?”

* * * *

"You're having a barbeque in this weather?"

He looks outside where the sun is barely peaking through the clouds, and the wind chill makes the high temperature for the day around 40. Castiel looks back at Dean with a 'Are you crazy?!' look on his face, one eyebrow perked up before he laughs.

Then Dean's words really register and the invitation 'Would you like to join us?' finally sinks in and Castiel flushes bright pink before nodding quietly, eyes on Dean's.

".... I would like to join you though....I mean, yeah, that'd be nice, thanks..."

* * * *

Dean laughs at that, suddenly realizing how ridiculous this had sounded.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's not what you would expect but... well, it's kind of a tradition for me and my brother. See, when we went to college we shared a flat and this one winter our radiator broke and... well, it was pretty much 50 ° in there for days. So we invited some friends over and had a Caribbean night, danced around in bathing trunks and bikinis and listened to reggae and stuff. It was awesome! We've been doing this ever since at least once a year!"

He grins at Castiel's surprised face and shrugs.

"Awesome! So, uhm... like I said, the dress code is pretty strict - but if you're uncomfortable in just swimming trunks it's okay to wear a t-shirt, too."

* * * *

Castiel can't help but laugh- it actually did sound like a lot of fun. He just hoped that he wouldn't freeze up and look like an idiot in front of all of Dean's family and friends. He would just have to be sure to get a little bit to drink, maybe that would calm his nerves about being around groups of people.

"No... No I'll be fine... I just have to find mine... I have no idea where they are I haven't been swimming in years."

He actually isn't even sure if he still owns a pair, but if not he'll go buy some, going to a party at Dean's is more than worth it.

* * * *

Dean nods and claps his hands enthusiastically then rubs them together.

"Great!! It's gonna be freaking awesome, I swear!"

The next hour they spend talking about everything and nothing. Dean shares some more hilarious stories of his and Sam's college years, how he first went to a casting and how everything went pretty much from 0 to 100 afterwards. How he still doesn't feel 100 % at home in this business but enjoys the perks of being a celebrity sometimes. He asks about Castiel, wants to know about his family, his hobbies and his past.

* * * *

Castiel spends the entire time falling for Dean, slowly but surely. Each time he smiles Castiel's heart speeds up, and every time he reveals a bit more about his love for his brother or his hobbies, even how he feels about his fiancée, Castiel can't help but become enthralled with everything Dean is.

Castiel explains how he's an only child, and he's always been envious of people who had siblings. His parents were always distant, and he practically raised himself, learning love and romance and passion from fairytales. Whenever he talks about relationships, which is rare, he glosses over the details and just explains that eventually his relationships end when they leave. 

"Um... the last relationship I was in ended about 6 months ago... It ended a little messy, and Jessi hasn't spoken to me since...”

* * * *

"Dude, I'm sorry,” Dean says after Castiel finished telling him about his last relationship "I mean... I've got no idea how it is out there... dating people... me and Lisa have been together since... huh, pretty much since high school. I know, it's totally lame!" He tells Castiel about his first award show and how, when he saw that his car was stuffed with horny groupies, his face flushed dark red and he was actually speechless. Dean orders coffee and they spend another hour, just talking and Dean can't remember the last time he'd had this much fun with anyone other than his brother. It's late afternoon when they decide to leave and Dean waves the waitress over and pays for both his and Castiel's order, despite the other man's protests. "Dude, it's okay! Just bring loads of steaks next week, okay?" he tells him, when Castiel still tries to give Dean his share of the bill. They walk outside and stop right next to Dean's car. He pats the roof and grins at Castiel. "That's my baby,” he says, his voice proud and loving.

* * * *

Castiel admires the car, walking around it and whistling low.

"She's beautiful.... How long have you had her?"

He stops beside Dean and looks up into the man's eyes, this close the height difference of a few inches is noticeable. Castiel brushes his hair out of his eyes and looks away quickly, taking a step back towards the side of the car, leaning against the car as they talk. Castiel doesn't want the day to be over, but he knows that it probably will be fairly soon. So he's soaking up as much Dean as he can before he doesn't see him again for another week like usual.

* * * *

Dean actually has to think about that for a moment, not very good with dates.

"Uhm, I actually got her from the money I got for my first big movie - that must've been like... 3 years ago..." He nods. "I know, it's not the smartest decision, spending so much money on a car but after the lousy college years I just felt like treating myself to her."

He looks down at Castiel, who doesn't say a word and just watches him with a content smile that Dean returns it a little bit awkward.

"I'm talking too much,” he says apologetically "I'm sorry."

He pulls his cell out of his pocket, checking the time and then unlocking the Impala's door.

"Alright, see you Saturday then? Around 8, I guess. I'll text you the address."

He takes a step forward and pulls Castiel in a short but tight hug, before getting in the car and turning on the ignition. Leaning out of the open window, he winks at Castiel.

"Don't forget the steaks!" he shouts as he steers his car off the parking lot.

* * * *

Castiel stands still, watching as Dean drives away, his heart sinking after a short upward leap when Dean hugged him. So Dean would hug him, and Dean considered him a friend, he invited him to a friend and family only barbeque. Or maybe he just pitied Castiel? No- stoppit Castiel, he thought to himself, just enjoy it. Just enjoy it.

The week passes much quicker than Castiel thought it would, his days filled with dreams of Dean, his nights with working on animation centered around his obsession's- no, his friend's face. He found himself almost surprised when Saturday came around, and he had to rush around to get ready, spending most of the day shopping for the perfect cut of steak and a pair of swim trunks that weren't entirely stupid looking.

He ends up having about an hour to waste before heading out to Dean's house, and spends it showering, releasing some of the tension he'd built up during the week as he strokes himself to climax with the fantasy of Dean pulling his hair and mouthing at his neck and saying "Cas" into his ear- it takes him only moments to reach ecstasy, Dean's name on his lips. He feels a bit more guilty this time, knowing more about Dean and his fiancée, it almost seems wrong to pleasure himself to the idea of his friend fucking him- but it doesn't stop him. Castiel dresses quickly in a plain white tee and his black and red swim shorts, throwing sandals on his feet before grabbing his steaks and hopping in his car. He takes a deep breath, and then drives to the address Dean had texted him earlier in the week.

* * * *

Lisa's not too happy about Dean inviting Castiel. "I just don't get why you would invite this guy,” she tells him at dinner on Monday evening and Dean sighs and once again explains that Castiel is a nice guy and that he hasn't got many friends and why would it hurt to help him get acquainted with some of his friends? She finally retreats and even agrees to him inviting Castiel, so Dean texts him their address. Thursday and Friday are crazy, since he's got a few interviews and promised Lisa to take care of the food and drinks. So while she's at home, preparing the decoration and some salads, he's running through the grocery store, getting steaks, bratwurst, mustard, and ketchup. The door rings almost every five minutes and Dean can't decide if he's happy or annoyed that every single one of their friends made it to their party. Their penthouse apartment is crammed with people so it's even hotter than planned and some of the women already took off their bikini bras and went outside to dance on the balcony. When Castiel rings, it's Lisa who opens the door and Dean - watching from the other side of the room - notices with relief that she greets him with a smile. He makes his way through the dozens of half-naked people and raises his hand in salutation. "Nice shorts,” he comments, laying an arm around Lisa's shoulders. He and Lisa both wear white, which looks incredible with their tanned bodies.

* * * *

Castiel blushes and smiles, before holding out a large platter covered in tinfoil with marinating steaks inside.

"You said to bring steaks..."

He gives them both his best awkward smile, thanking Lisa for her hospitality and commenting on how lovely she looks. After the steaks are moved to the balcony where the barbeque is, Castiel takes off his sandals and shirt, revealing even more pale skin. Compared to all the tanned and bronzed glowing bodies in the penthouse apartment, he looks like snow. Castiel's body is leanly built, but the muscles that show under the pale skin are beautiful. Dean is right, he could have easily been a model, but no one before Dean ever told him he had that potential.

Castiel feels awkward until he gets his third drink in him, but by that time he is laughing and relaxed, joking with a few of Dean's friends and family, and there seem to be a few people who are obviously interested in Castiel.

* * * *

Dean doesn't really find the time to talk to Castiel all that much. Hell, it's his party and there are more then 30 people he has to take care of and talk to. He does check on him several times though and finds himself relieved, when he notices that his friends seem to really like him. Whenever their eyes meet - completely coincidentally of course - Dean smiles at him before continuing his conversation with someone else. The party is awesome as usual and so it doesn't surprise Dean, that the first guests are leaving only after six in the morning. A bunch of people fell asleep on their couch and some of them even in his and Lisa's bedroom. He goes looking for his girlfriend and finds her together with two of her best friends in the guest room, sleeping in a girly cuddle pile. Having completely lost track of who's still here and who's not, Dean retreats to the bathroom, where the gargantuan Jacuzzi is still filled with tepid water and with a soft moan he slides in. Lazily sipping on a beer bottle, he enjoys the silence. The only sounds in the quiet apartment are the deep-toned salsa music in the living room and the soft sounds the water makes, whenever Dean shifts.

* * * *

There a soft clearing of the throat as Castiel stands in the doorway to the bathroom.

"Hey Dean..."

He pads in, barefoot, his hair a mess from dancing and having people tousle it all night long. He has a drink in his hand, he's not sure what number, and doesn't care at this point. Castiel walks in to sit on the edge of the tub, smiling down at Dean, admiring the man's body as he lounges back in the tub.

"Great party... really... I had a really, really good time..."

Castiel pauses, and leans over Dean before reaching out and brushing a piece of some kind of food off the edge of Dean's lip with his thumb, ever so gently.

“Sorry-...crumb...”

* * * *

Dean wants to say something, it's already on the tip of his tongue, but then Castiel sweeps his thumb over his lip and for a moment there's not a single thought on his mind. His eyes follow Castiel's fingers, travel up the other man's pale, lean body and rest on his slightly parted, softly smiling lips.

"I'm glad you liked it,” he says, a little breathless - must be the warm water and the lack of air in here - and returns his smile. "You made some new friends?"

* * * *

Castiel nods, his hair falling forward slightly as his head moves.

"Yeah... I think so. A friend of yours, um, Gabriel? He seems very nice. He invited me out for drinks with a group of people next week, Tuesday I think."

Castiel takes another swig of his beer and then sets it down on the counter top, looking around the large bathroom.

"Your place is gorgeous Dean... I don't think I've ever seen a nicer apartment."

He turns around and slips his feet into the tub, dropping his head down and shutting his eyes at the warmth of the water compared to the chilling air, his hands hanging onto the edge to keep himself steady, as the room is moving just slightly.

* * * *

"Gabe, right! Yeah, he's a great guy - just... don't take everything he says too serious... he's the biggest goofball on this planet."

Dean chuckles and empties his bottle, letting it drop onto the plush bath mat carelessly.

"Thanks,” he then says, nodding approvingly "Took me some time and money to make it a home but it was worth it."

He looks up at Castiel, who's still sitting on the edge of the hot tub. He seems so relaxed, so much more at ease than Dean has ever seen him before and it makes him somewhat proud.

"C'mon, get in here,” he says after a while of comfortable silence and shifts a bit to the right to make space for Castiel.

* * * *

Castiel blushes and grabs his own beer bottle, balancing on the edge of the tub to reach back behind him by a few feet- it showcases his lean abs, ribs showing just slightly from the way he's stretching back. Castiel manages to grab his bottle and drinks the rest of his as well, dropping it onto the mat beside Dean's.

He climbs down into the tub beside Dean, their shoulders bumping from the tightness of the fit. The tub was big, but not that big.

"It's a great tradition... watching everyone walk around practically naked in the middle of winter was a treat."

Castiel giggles and turns his head to look at Dean, color rushing to his cheeks when he realizes that Dean's face is now maybe a foot away at most. He finds himself wanting to count Dean's freckles, and stares at his lips for a second before looking down and away.

* * * *

Dean chuckles and stretches out his arms, resting them on the rim of the hot tub behind Castiel's back.

"I know, right?" he says, a smug smile on his face as he turns to look at the other man. They're so close and Dean knows, he should feel awkward or embarrassed but he doesn't. It's new and exciting - and it's hot. He licks his lips, dropping his gaze on Castiel's slender body, taking in his muscular torso, the few dark hairs on his chest and the treasure trail disappearing in his black and red shorts underwater. When he looks back up, Castiel's cheeks are flushed and the blue of his eyes is almost blindingly bright.

"I'm pretty sure you gained a bunch of admirers tonight."

His voice is now rough, hoarse almost, and without noticing it, he had shifted closer towards Castiel. He licks his lips, his eyes flicking up to Castiel's eyes and down to his lips. It happens without Dean planning it, without him even thinking about it consciously. His right hand cups Castiel's cheek, holding him in place, while he lowers his head slightly, until their lips are only inches apart. Castiel's eyes widen with what Dean isn't quite sure is shock or arousal. Moments pass, their breaths mingle. Then Dean closes the distance between them and with a quiet moan, their lips touch.

* * * *

 

Castiel is sure he's going to die. The heat that is flaring inside of his body is too much, and with the rate of blood rushing away from his head towards a stiffening hard on in his swim trunks, he's also sure that he might faint from lack of blood to his head. But at least he'll die happy.

He kisses Dean back, taking in his scent and flavor, his breath hitching as he tries to calm his body before it explodes from the excitement. Castiel opens his mouth, allowing Dean access and flicking his own tongue out to brush over Dean's perfect lips. He runs a hand up Dean's stomach to brace against his chest as his body turns just slightly towards Dean, automatically reacting to the kiss, wanting more, so much more.

None of the thoughts that should be going through Castiel's head are- he doesn't think about the fact that Dean is just his friend, or that's he's engaged, or that they are both completely drunk. He just kisses Dean and moans back gently, every fiber of his being aching for more of this, more of Dean.

* * * *

Drunk or sober: Dean can't deny that this is pretty much the best first kiss he's ever had. It's careful, gentle, devouring, and passionate at the same time. Castiel presses against him and Dean wraps his free arm around him, pulling him closer and shifting so he has Castiel pressed against the back of the tub. Dean deepens the kiss, Castiel completely pliant beneath him. Their tongues tangle but neither of them cares to win this fight. They taste each other’s breaths and soft moans and finally break, panting heavily. Dean pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against Castiel's and closes his eyes, concentrating on recovering his breath.

* * * *

Castiel restrains himself from pushing this further with his hands, and just rests them on Dean’s lower back, breathing as quietly as he can while feeling like he ran a marathon. He’s praying inside that Dean can’t feel his hard on, but is almost positive it’s obvious, straining against his thin shorts. He licks his lips and slides one of his hands up Dean’s back, dragging his nails gently to give Dean small scratches that would fade almost instantly.  
“Dean…”  
His voice is hoarse, rough and deep against Dean’s lips. Castiel reaches up for another kiss, his blue eyes opening to look up at the man above him. This close Dean can see how striking Castiel’s irises are, blue and light blue and sea foam colored all painted into an explosion of color from the middle of his eyes, pupils changing size as his vision shifts to focus on Dean’s face.

Dean’s lips are still slightly opened and he wants to say something, maybe Castiel’s name, maybe something else, but then the other man’s lips are back on his and he thinks that it couldn’t have been important anyway. Minutes pass and all they’re doing is kissing, tasting each other, Dean sucking and biting down on Castiel’s lips, drinking in his desperate moans like he has no other choice. Pressing even closer he feels Castiel’s hardon against his thigh and a surprised moan escapes his lips as he realizes where this is heading. He leans back, breaking the kiss and holding Castiel’s face in both of his hands. Their eyes are clouded with lust and desire and for a moment Dean’s almost scared by it. “I think,” he says slowly, licking Castiel’s taste off his lips and looking down in his bright eyes, “I think… we should stop…”

* * * *

Castiel's heart stops, he swears it does, as the lust fades away quickly and he realizes what they were really doing. Dean, engaged to Lisa, the kind smiling woman who had welcomed Castiel into her home earlier, was kissing him. And he was kissing back. Castiel's face pales, all the color draining from it and he stutters as he yanks himself out of Dean's grasp and pulls away, scrambling clumsily out of the tub, water splashing everywhere.

“Oh God... oh god oh god I'm sorry...”

He brushes the back of his hand over his bruised lips holding it there to hide his trembling chin. Tears form in his eyes as he hurriedly rushes out of the bathroom and into the living room to grab his things, being careful to be quiet as he slides across the floor on wet feet.

Castiel had to leave, he had to get out of there, away from the embarrassment of it all, but even more away from Dean before Dean could have the chance to say 'Oh sorry man, I was drunk it didn't mean anything', like Castiel knew he would. He leaves quickly, and drives home even though there's no way he should have been driving while that intoxicated- Castiel isn't exactly in the right state of mind to be thinking about anything. Once he gets home, he throws up, cries until he's hiccupping, and then passes out on the bathroom floor.

The next morning he's not sure what happened, but his head is killing him, and he has flashes of memory of kissing Dean, remembering hot lips on his and a hand tangling in his hair, but he can't tell if it was real or not. Something tells him it was though, and that leaves a lead brick in his stomach.

* * * *

Dean blinks as Cas stutters frantic words and stumbles out of the hot tub and out of the bathroom. He doesn't even get the chance to say anything, not to mention hold him back or do anything. Before he can even process what had happened just now, he hears the door click shut behind Castiel. He sinks back against the enamel of the Jacuzzi, letting his head fall back and with a deep sigh he closes his eyes. His head is full with thoughts, voices mingling, yelling at him, pleading but Dean refuses to listen. He presses his eyes shut and breathes and it doesn't take long until he falls into a restless sleep.

When he wakes up, his whole body is trembling and his teeth are literally chattering. He slides out of the hot tub and wraps a large towel around his body, stumbling outside and into his bedroom. There are still two of Lisa's friends lying on his bed but they're awake and when they see Dean, they get up and leave the room, quietly thanking him for the great party. Dean doesn't even care to dress himself, he just slips underneath the thick blanket and tries to stop shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week is horrible. Of course, he got the fucking cold of the millennium and his agent has to cancel several interviews. So he has to listen to both his management and his girlfriend complaining. Cause as awesome as the party had been, as usual some of their guests hadn't been able to control themselves and messed up their apartment pretty bad. It's the same every year and although Lisa loves Dean's parties, she bitches at him every single year for letting his friends make such a mess out of their place. Dean doesn't note that her friends vomited on their carpet and broke their dishes just as much as his friends and just lets her talk. He doesn't remember how the hell he'd fallen asleep in the hot tub and other than strange images of him and Castiel kissing his mind is strangely blank. He doesn't hear anything from his friend though, so he guesses he must've somehow made that up...

It's Thursday evening when his cell rings and Gabriel is on the other end of the line. They talk shortly, Gabe thanking him for the awesome party and Dean asking if he got home alright, before Gabe addresses the real reason he called.

"Man, did you hear anything from Castiel?" he asks, his voice a little more concerned than Dean ever heard it and Dean feels instantly worried and guilty. "We wanted to grab some drinks last night and he didn't show up or call or anything."

After Dean had hung up, he sits there for a full five minutes, contemplating what to do. Then he dials Castiel's number, anxiety twisting his guts.

* * * *

Castiel answers the phone on the third ring, his voice quiet and tinged with a bit of fear.

“Hello?”

Castiel had spent the week trying to piece back together what was going on, and unable to, finally decided to just focus on his work, throwing himself into 16 hour days animating anything he could but Dean's face.

* * * *

"Cas,” Dean says with a sigh of relief when the other man finally answers, "Are you alright? Gabe called; he told me you didn't show up Tuesday night."

He waits a moment and thinks he hears Castiel curse on the other side of the line.

"Hey, it's okay, he... we were just worried about you..."

There's an awkward pause Dean can't quite place before he speaks up again.

"Hey, are you free this weekend? We could have a drink, talk if you like."

* * * *

Castiel sighs on the other end of the line and there's another pause before he speaks up, sounding a little less stressed.

“Sure... Can you tell Gabe I'm sorry? I got really wrapped up in work and just forgot... If you get a chance to speak to him that is.”

There's another pause before Castiel speaks up again.

“I'm free Sunday night... working Saturday and Sunday during the day, I picked up some extra shifts from a friend. Did you want to come over here or is your place okay after the hurricane that was your party?”

He laughs softly, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed that Dean didn't remember, which was probably for the better- even if it was the hottest thing Castiel had ever experienced.

* * * *

"Course. I'll text him as soon as we hang up." Dean says, relieved that Cas is okay and still willing to talk to him. He was a little worried that he'd done something to piss Castiel off while drunk. "Uhm... my place was a mess... it's okay now but I don't think Lisa wants me to bring anyone for the next... hm... year?"  
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head  
"She's always a little edgy after my Caribbean Nights..."  
He clears his throat before continuing to speak, "So, Sunday night, your place? I could be there around 8, if that's okay?"  
After Castiel agrees and they both hang up Dean texts Gabriel, as promised, and when he hears Lisa coming home from her job as an office executive, he walks into the hallway to welcome her. Friday and Saturday pass without any special events but when Dean wakes on Sunday morning, his cold is still there. He takes a couple of pills and thankfully, the cold gets better during the day, until he's only sneezing from time to time. Still he wraps himself in more layers of clothes than usual, wearing a dark green bandana to protect his sore throat. When he pulls his Impala into a free parking a few streets away from Cas it's already 8.15 pm and despite the snow and ice on the streets, he hurries around the block to Cas' apartment building. On the last step of the stairs in front of the building of course, he slips and falls backwards in the snow. He lies there a few seconds, shocked and wincing in pain. Biting his lip he sits upright and rubs the back of his head carefully. "Fucking awesome,” he curses, slowly walking up the stairs again and ringing at Castiel's doorbell.

* * * *

Castiel answers the door wearing an oversized Christmas sweater, knitted in blues, greens and whites with brown reindeer and trees on it. He has on baggy jeans beneath the sweater, and his glasses are missing once again. He looks at Dean and can immediately tell something is wrong, eyes widening, his voice filled with concern when he speaks.

“Dean, you okay? You don't look so great.”

This coming from someone who constantly looked like he'd only slept 4 hours the previous night. Castiel stepped away from the door to let Dean in, taking his coat when Dean shrugged it off and hanging it up in the usual place.

Castiel watches Dean carefully, judging from how he moves and reacts if anything had happened that Dean remembered, and to his relief it seems like Dean doesn't remember. There's another part though, deep inside Castiel, hidden behind his ever present insecurities and morals that speaks up, a tiny voice in the back of his head that quietly rings out 'you wish he remembered' and 'you wish he liked it' and 'you wish he wanted more'. The voice is right, of course. Castiel did wish these things, but he shushed the little voice internally, and focused on his friend, who seemed to be on the tail end of a really horrific cold.

* * * *

"Jesus Christ, Cas, no. I'm not okay,” he curses, his tone a little too harsh and walks past him to slump down on the sofa. He leans back, sighing and taking deep breaths before speaking again. "I'm sorry... I fell asleep in the hot tub last week and had the biggest cold for days... and the moment I start feeling better I slip and break my fucking neck on your stairs..." He curses again, then looks up to Castiel and smiles a little awkwardly. "I'm being immature and whiny... ignore me!"

* * * *

Castiel looks only slightly taken aback by Dean's outburst before he smiles and tilts his head to one side.

“Just... sit there, okay? I'll be right back.”

He disappears into the kitchen and rummages around, coming back a few minutes later with the rest of the whiskey Dean had left, which was maybe ¼ of the bottle, and two glasses filled with the whiskey stones. He sets them down and pours Dean a shot, hands it to him, then motions for Dean to sit on the floor.

“Go on; get your butt off my couch.”

Of course, Dean looks at him like he's nuts, but Castiel gently shoves him off onto the floor. When Dean is sitting comfortably Castiel climbs onto the couch behind him and then gently starts massaging Dean's neck. His hands are warm, but not sweaty miraculously enough and they're soft and nimble. Castiel gently kneads the muscles around Dean's neck, working his fingers up into his hair, nails scratching ever so gently at his scalp.

“Let me know if any of this hurts okay? You have a bump the size of my fist on the back of your head, so I imagine that's where you smacked yourself.”

* * * *

Dean winces when Cas' fingers first scrape over his skin but soon he relaxes under the soft touches. "Actually everything hurts but this,” he quickly adds, when Castiel pulls back his hands, "this is nice."  
He leans a bit forward, giving Cas more space to knead and stroke and after a while the pressure and tension in his shoulders and the back of his neck are almost gone.  
"You've got really talented hands,” Dean mumbles and lets out a soft sigh when Cas' fingers stroke the sensitive skin behind his ears. He reaches out for the whiskey and pours himself another shot, downing it in one go.  
"So,” he says after a while, when Castiel really isn't so much massaging him but simply resting his hands on Dean's shoulders "Gabe was pretty disappointed you didn't show up. You really must've made an impression on him."

* * * *

Castiel blushes, not sure how to take that. It had been very hard to gauge Gabe... Castiel still wasn't sure if the man was gay or not, or interested in him or not.

“I feel so bad about that... I just lost track of time in the dungeon... Oh, um, that's what we call the studio- the dungeon. You know, dark, basement level, masters who whip us.”

He chuckles and leans forward, pressing his chest against Dean's back just slightly to grab himself a drink as well. Castiel leans back against the couch, the only parts of his body touching Dean now were the legs that Dean was sitting in between and resting his arms on.

“I should call him tomorrow... he said something about a game of pool on Monday nights?”

* * * *

"Whips?" Dean chuckles and finally turns around to face Castiel, his back now leaning against the couch table behind him.

"Yeah, he tries to convince me to join them every once in a while - but I suck at pool and he knows that. I think he just wants to make fun of me."

He shrugs, pouring himself another glass, before pushing the bottle away.

"I should really stop getting drunk all the time - who knows what I'd wake up to tomorrow... my agent would kill me if I missed another interview due to sickness."

* * * *

Castiel smiles softly and leans forward to grab the bottle from the table, finishing it off by pouring the last shot into his glass, his second drink for the night.

“There. Now you can't get drunk. I don't have any other whiskey in the house.”

He smirks and puts the bottle on the small table beside the couch, having to lean to do so. The baggy sweater he's wearing does a crappy job of staying put and as Castiel leans an expanse of pale skin shows, lean torso and waist. He sits back up and takes a long drink from his glass, making a happy face as the smooth burn slides down his throat and into his stomach.

“What interview did you miss?”

The alcohol is doing it's work and he's thinking less about what they might have done, and more about what he wants to do. As always when he's around Dean, Castiel's mind wanders over his features, aching to caress each inch of skin Dean would let him... and as always there's that painfully annoying voice clearly stating that Dean wouldn't let him touch any of him, unless he was incredibly drunk like last time.

* * * *

Castiel leans over him to put the bottle back on the table and Dean spots a small piece of pale skin and images flash in his mind. The barbeque, the Jacuzzi... he shakes his head. Of course he'd seen Cas half-naked, they all had been in their swimming trunks and bikinis that night. He clears his throat, looking up in Castiel's bright face.

"Nothing too important, just something for a teenie magazine, it's scheduled for next week now."

He shrugs, taking the last sip out of his glass, sticking his tongue in, in a lousy attempt of trying to get the very last drop of the beverage.

* * * *

Castiel's face flushes bright red as he watches Dean lick at his glass, the last drop of whiskey so teasingly slow as he slides down the glass towards that tongue. That tongue that had been in Castiel's mouth just over a week ago. Castiel stands up quickly and walks back into the kitchen, coming back with a diet Coke for Dean and one for himself as well.

“Will this do? I know you like Pepsi, but it's all I have...”

He hands Dean the coke and sits down on the couch again, this time on the other end of the couch, trying to give a little space between his throbbing heart and the reason for it's accelerated beating.

* * * *

Dean sets down his glass and takes the can Castiel offers him. "Awesome, thanks!" He takes a big gulp and puts the can back on the table. He watches Castiel drinking for a moment, then looks around to the remote control. "There's a game on, I think,” he says and gets up, standing in front of Castiel and smirking down on him. "Does my butt have the permission to return to the couch, Master of the dungeon?"

* * * *

Castiel almost chokes on his coke, coughing and laughing at the same time until tears form in his eyes.

“Ahah-..y...yes!”

He snickers and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands, having to set his coke down in order to avoid spilling it.

“The remote is behind you, on the table... master of the dungeon... heh”

Castiel points to the small table on Dean's end of the couch, before turning sideways and letting his legs stretch out on the couch until his toes almost touch the cushion Dean's sitting on. The couch is incredibly comfortable, perfect for stretching out on as the arms on either side are high enough to support your back when you lean against them.

* * * *

Dean watches Castiel for a moment, not sure if he should pat his back or call an ambulance. Then he hears him laughing and the tension vanishes again. He chuckles at the sight of the completely loosened up man and then reaches for the remote, turning on the TV. They watch the game and even though Castiel doesn't seem all too much into it, they both enjoy it. Dean tries not to cheer to loudly and enthusiastically but fails horribly, making Castiel laugh again and again. Finally, he mutes the TV, the results of the game flickering across the screen and turns towards Castiel. "I feel hoarse from screaming, I'm so sorry!" he grins, taking another sip of his third coke "I'm sure your neighbors hate me now."

* * * *

Castiel shrugs, his sweater barely conveying the movement because it practically swallows the smaller man.

“It's okay, the walls are actually pretty thick here. I can play music fairly loud, and I rarely hear the people next door having sex.”

He flushes slightly and quickly takes a drink of his coke to hide it.

“Um, you want to order food?... Or maybe I could make something?”

It's almost 10pm, but Castiel hadn't had dinner yet, and he was pretty hungry. He gets up off the couch and starts collecting empty soda cans off the table to take into the kitchen.

* * * *

Dean quickly gets up, intending to help Cas cleaning up but the other man is already on his way out of the living room. Following him, Dean whistles at the sight of the well-assembled kitchen. "So you're good cook?" he asks, voice impressed and a bit envious "I'm awful at this, the only dish I'm not able to burn is frozen pizza and canned food." He watches Castiel open some drawers and when he’s asked what he would like he quickly raises his hands "Nothing too fancy... I dunno, whatever is convenient, I'd even be happy with dry pasta!"

* * * *

Castiel looks over his shoulder and smiles.

“I'm alright...”

Castiel quickly prepares an easy pasta dish, just some pasta bows with broccoli, chicken and alfredo sauce. The chicken was already made in the fridge and the broccoli was easy enough to steam, so he has Dean stir the pasta so it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan while it's boiling. They work remarkably well together in the kitchen, with Castiel humming softly as he buzzes around Dean, throwing in some spices and oil into the water, instructing Dean on how to drain the pasta without burning yourself on the steam. The meal is ready in 15 minutes, and Castiel is beaming, cooking always makes him happy.

“There. Wasn't too hard was it?”

He somehow managed to get pasta sauce on his cheek, probably from when he was stirring the final mixture together furiously, making sure to get every piece of pasta coated in the alfredo. His hair is messy and with the over sized sweater he probably looks a little like a kid playing house to Dean.

* * * *

Dean is amazed by how good Castiel knows his way around here. He's working smoothly as if he's doing it every day and the way he's moving around the kitchen almost reminds him of a complex dancing choreography. Finally, he leans back against the kitchen counter, watching Castiel pour the finished pasta into a bowl and putting some herbs on top of it. "It looks perfect,” he says and he means it. He feels like fainting from the heat inside the kitchen and finds it a bit unfair that Castiel still looks so fresh and happy. Then he notices the small drop of sauce on Castiel's cheek and without thinking about it leans forward to brush his index finger over it. Sticking it into his mouth and licking the sauce off his own finger he hums satisfactory. "It also tastes perfect!"

* * * *  
Castiel freezes for a second, eyes wide as he watches Dean lick the sauce off his finger. He can’t believe it but that movement alone has him stiffening in his pants. Luckily, the pants are baggy and the sweater is long. He clears his throat and smiles a little half smile before handing Dean his bowl and a fork.

“Here you go.”

Castiel scoots past him to take up his own bowl and fork, then walks back into the living room and sits down on the couch, crossed legged with his bowl in his lap. Castiel is finding it harder and harder to focus on things other than Dean as the booze wears off. By this time he was almost completely sober again, but his body was refusing to stop being turned on by the smallest things Dean said or did, the way his hair looked, the smell of him whenever he got too close. Castiel knew tonight would be yet another night when he would have to take his frustrations out on his fist.

 

* * * *

“Thanks,” Dean said, taking his dishes and following Castiel back to the living room. They eat in silence, only interrupted by Dean’s pleasant moans. In the end, they empty the whole pot and Dean - sitting opposite to Castiel on the couch - lowers his hand to sweep the remaining sauce off the white china, licking it off his finger. When he puts the bowl back to the couch table, his face is red with pleasure and he sinks back into the cushions behind him, making a content sound. “You’re the best cook I ever met,” he says, grinning widely, rubbing his belly, “I wish you could cook for me every day - but my agent would probably kill us both.”

***

 

“Once a week won’t kill you…besides, I don’t always make pasta with such a rich sauce…I like to make stuffed chicken breasts with artichoke hearts and sun dried tomatoes and mozzarella…and turkey burgers with peppers and spices mixed into the meat, and I make a really delicious spinach and strawberry salad.”

He puts his bowl down and looks over at Dean.

“I’m versatile…at least when it comes to food.”

Castiel can’t help but grin, his eyes bright, so happy that Dean liked his food, and even happier that he had enjoyed it so much as to make those sexy little sounds. Those would come in handy later on in the night, once Dean was gone and Castiel could stretch out on the couch, alone, and stroke himself to the thought of Dean’s pink tongue and his hands, and….Castiel had to stop himself, his thoughts already stirring his cock in his pants.

* * * *

Dean makes a strangled noise and shakes his head vigorously.

“Okay, either you stop talking about all the foodgasms I could have or you have to promise to make all this stuff for me!”

He grins at him, licking his lips just thinking about all the delicious food.

“But seriously - is there anything you can’t do? You could start your own business as a cooking masseur; you could even animate your own ads!”

* * * *

Castiel laughs at this, enjoying Dean's flattery, but also feeling slightly uncomfortable- he's not sure how to respond to it all.

“Well... I'm socially inept. I'm not great at making friends or at keeping relationships going. That's why Jessi left. I just wasn't that great at it. I guess I'm distant or I don't open up enough?”

He shrugs and leans back against the couch, before deciding he's too warm and standing up to take off his sweater, taking his shirt with it.

“Hah..oops.”

Castiel drops the sweater and pulls the shirt back on, a tattoo that Dean hadn't noticed in his drunken state last weekend on Castiel's shoulder blade standing out. It was a large symbol, pure black, no color. It looked somewhat like a strange B, or maybe a stylistic butterfly. Before Dean can examine it further, Castiel's shirt is pulled back on, covering his pale back once again.

* * * *

Dean shakes his head, huffing incredulously.

"That's what you keep telling me but trust me - I know way more solitary, socially awkward people!"

He stops when Cas gets up and pulls his sweater over his head, his eyes resting on his naked body for a moment before it's covered with thin fabric again.

"Uhm,” he mumbles, a bit distracted "That's... that's a cool tattoo - is there a meaning behind it?"

* * * *

“What?... Oh!”

He laughs and turns around, awkwardly brushing his messy hair back out of his face before sitting on the couch, closer to Dean than before.

“It's the letter C, in Angelic script. I got it when my Grandfather passed away. He was really heavily into the lore surrounding angels and demons, and he wanted me to get something that would protect me... I guess... It's a little weird to be honest, but I did it for him because he was my Grandpa. I loved him and he felt it would make me safe.”

Castiel shrugs and leans back against the sofa, looking down at his hands and frowning.

“It's just really weird because I don't even believe in God.”

He turns his head to look Dean in the eyes, Castiel's own that bright breath taking blue as always.

* * * *

Dean turns away, biting his lip. He feels guilty forcing Castiel to talk about something so painful and immediately regrets it.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to snoop around..."

He gets up before Castiel can say something and carries their bowls and cutlery into the kitchen, putting them down in the sink and letting warm water flow over them. When he turns around again, Castiel is standing in the doorframe, looking at him.

"It's late... I should go..."

* * * *

Castiel had a feeling that Dean was going to excuse himself to leave, but hearing the words from Dean's mouth still made his heart drop a little. He smiles though and nods.

“Okay. Thanks for coming over, it was fun.”

Castiel walks to the door and opens it, the blast of chilly air from the hallway giving him goose bumps and making him shiver slightly.

“Be careful not to slip again okay?”

He says this half joking half-serious, and throws Dean a teasing grin.

* * * *

"Ha-ha,” Dean deadpans but can't help but grinning himself. He raises a hand to pat Castiel's shoulder and steps outside. "Make sure to give Gabe a call about pool!"

He waves at the other man, before turning around and taking the stairs down to the ground floor, leaving the apartment house very carefully. It takes him a little longer than usual driving back home but getting his head almost cracked open he doesn't want to risk anything else tonight. He slips under the blanket almost soundlessly and Lisa wraps her arms around him, and if a pair of bright blue eyes flashes in his mind while he fucks her, it's completely coincidental and certainly means nothing.

* * * *

As soon as Dean leaves Castiel locks the door and throws himself on the couch, the faint lingering smell of Dean's cologne or shampoo enough to get him hard. The memory of Dean's soft moans and the way he licked his lips more than enough to get Castiel panting as he unzips his pants and takes his cock out, stroking only a few times before coming- everything in his mind was Dean and it felt so good to come to the thought of Dean riding him on this couch, his strong hands gripping Castiel's hips hard as he slammed into him, the nick name said over and over in his ear. He couldn't even summon the guilt he had from last time about Dean being engaged- Castiel figured it was just fantasy, and if the fantasy could give him such mind-blowing orgasms, so be it. His last thought before he drifts off to sleep is about Dean's eyes, surrounded by those adorable freckles.

Early the next morning he texts Gabe, asking about the pool game and apologizing for missing drinks the past week.

* * * *

Gabriel doesn't reply to Castiel's text until later that day. Coming home from his arduous job as a lawyer, he slumps down on his couch. He's exhausted but Castiel asking about a new time to meet cheers him up immediately. He texts him the time and place and at 9 pm sharp he waits in front of the pub for Castiel. Balthazar and Sam are already inside, waiting only for them to start the first game.

* * * *

 

Castiel runs up; hair a mess and his glasses askew on his face. He's breathing a little hard, puffs of white breath on the air as he skids to a stop in front of Gabriel, bending over to catch his breath for a second before standing back up.

“Hi Gabe.... S-... sorry I'm late.”

He smiles and pushes his glasses back up his nose and adjusts his shirt. Castiel is dressed in well fitting jeans with a plain black long sleeve button up under his peacoat, a blue scarf around his neck.

“Couldn't find parking.”

* * * *

Gabe raises his hands, shaking his head.

"Stop apologizing and get inside, we're only waiting for you!"

It doesn't take long until they're all completely sloshed, cheering for each other or catcalling when someone else is making his game. Castiel is not bad at this and Gabriel is glad he invited him. When he comes back from the restroom and spots his new friend in a corner of the bar with a huge guy wrapped around him, he contemplates what to do for only a second.

"Heyyy~" he slurs, walking straight towards them, eyeing the stranger with open suspicion "Is everything... alright?"

* * * *

Castiel's eyes widen and he mouths 'thank you' as he wrenches himself from the huge man's grasp and walks over to Gabriel, wrapping one arm around his waist.

“There you are Gabe! See...this is the boyfriend I was talking about. Sorry...”

He shrugs at the other man, who frowns, suspicious, but shrugs back finally and walks away.

Castiel lets out a sigh of relief and lets go of Gabriel's waist slowly.

“Thank you.... That guy just wouldn't give up.”

Castiel picks up his beer and downs the rest of it in one gulp before picking up a pool cue and handing it to Gabriel.

“Your turn.”

* * * *

Gabriel blinks a moment, then stretches out the cue to stop Castiel from returning to the table.

"Whoa, whoa, hold it - what exactly just happened? Cause I have the feeling I just got used as an excuse and I'd like to know why."

* * * *  
Castiel makes a face and then turns his head to look at Gabriel, sighing out a long breath.  
“I'm gay. He's gay. He wanted to take me home...and I didn't want to go but he wasn't taking no for an answer. So I said I had a boyfriend.”  
Castiel gently pokes Gabriel in the chest.  
“You. You were my cover.”  
He tilts his head to one side, frowning in concern.  
“Did I weird you out? Sorry...”  
***  
Gabriel nods, a little surprised but not offended.  
“Actually no”, he says after a moment of silence and shrugs “But you should probably know that I’m playing for the other team - I’m a ladies man, can’t help it!”

****

Castiel smiles so wide his dimples show up in his cheeks as he laughs.

“Heh! That's completely okay Gabe... You're my cover... you're a good looking guy, but I think friends is all I wanted anyway.”

He walks back to the table and they finish out their game of pool before Castiel realizes he has an early shift in the morning and has to leave.

“Thanks for the cover again, and the pool! Next time, I might actually beat you.”

He smiles and waves goodbye to the other guys before heading back out into the cold to go home.

* * * *

Gabriel raises a hand to his chest, pretending to be deeply hurt by Castiel's comment but follows him back to the table to resume their game. When Castiel leaves, Gabriel is very pleased with himself and how the evening went. He didn't say another word about Castiel being gay but he wasn't blind - back at Dean's barbeque it had been pretty obvious that there was more between Dean and Castiel, at least on Castiel's side. So when Gabriel comes back home from work on Tuesday afternoon he decides to call Dean.

"Yeah?" the other man answers his phone, sounding slightly exhausted. Gabriel doesn't ask because he's pretty sure he knows the answer - interviews, photo shoots... the usual routine of his famous friend.

"You missed one hell of a game Monday night,” he teases, lounging in his armchair "Castiel is so much better at pool than you'll ever be!"

Dean rolls his eyes, leaning on the kitchen counter and wiping sweat off his forehead. He's wearing a black apron and balances a wooden spoon and a can of spices in his hands - having paid close attention to what Castiel did, he decided to try cooking himself - so far it's more of a disaster and he already considers ordering pizza.

"So you guys had fun, awesome - I'm busy, Gabe-"

But before he can continue, Gabriel decides to drop the bomb: "Why didn't you tell me he's gay?"

Dean halts. A frown forms on his face and he's not sure if he heard his friend correctly, so he doesn't say anything for a few seconds.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Gabriel rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue: "Castiel, silly - he's gay! Could barely hold off the loads of guys wooing him at the pub."

Dean doesn't remember how he had ended the call but when he finally comes to his senses again, the water on the stove is already boiling over and the sauce is burnt and wasted.

* * * *

Castiel is feeling lonely as the happiness the social interaction of the other night brought him fades away, and decides to send Dean a quick message text late Tuesday night, only a couple hours after Gabe and Dean had spoken.

'Hey Dean, hope your agent was kinder to you this week! I have a free night this Thursday if you wanted to come over and hang. I'll make you food-gasm food and I promise it'll be healthy. Cross my heart'

He's trying his hardest to be nonchalant but inside knows he's hoping with all his heart to see Dean again. Ever since that guy hit on him in the bar he's been feeling more alone than usual- Castiel even thought about going back and seeing if the guy was still there. The guy wasn't bad looking.... he just wasn't Dean.

* * * *

After throwing away the pathetic remains of what should've been his and Lisa's dinner he orders pizza and they eat quickly. They're lying on the couch, Lisa fast asleep in his arm, when Dean's phone buzzes. He stares at the text for a full five minutes, his mind blank. Again there are images flashing in his head, scented foam, quiet salsa music and another body pressing against his. Against all better judgment Dean types his reply: 'I'll be there around 9.'

* * * *

Castiel bites his lower lip and frowns, wondering why Dean would come over so late for a moment, before shrugging it off and putting his phone down. Now he would just have to be patient for two days until he could see Dean again.

Castiel gets ready for bed that night thinking about how strange his life had become since meeting Dean Winchester. He was hanging out with a celebrity fairly regularly now, a gorgeous man that he was in love with... or at least falling in love with. Castiel wasn't sure anymore, did his obsession with Dean blur the lines of love because he was getting to know the man as a person, rather than just as some far off distant god like idol? He wasn't sure, all he knew was that his heart beat faster whenever he thought about Dean, and those few precious moments when Castiel had been in Dean's arms were probably the happiest in his life- followed swiftly by the saddest when he thought he would never get to see Dean again.

Luckily Dean didn't remember their heated kisses in the hot tub that night, nor did he suspect that Castiel was indeed infatuated with him. For that at least, Castiel was grateful. So he falls asleep thinking about what to make Dean, and the last thought through his mind before sleep overcomes him is whether Dean would prefer pecans or walnuts on his salad.

* * * *

Thursday comes faster than Dean thought. He doesn't even have to argue with Lisa about visiting Castiel, when she tells him she took Friday off to go and visit a friend of hers over the weekend, leaving on Thursday afternoon after work. Dean finds a parking lot right in front of Castiel's apartment building this time and - taking the utmost care and managing the stairs safely - rings at his doorbell. When he reaches the apartment of his friend, he smiles and raises his hands, holding two bottles of wine. "I didn't know if you prefer red or white,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, handing the bottles over to Castiel and then kicking his shoes off.

* * * *

“Thanks!”

Castiel flashes Dean a smile, surprised at the wine, and wanders back into the kitchen, placing the bottles on a rare empty spot. The whole apartment smells like something delicious, hearty and spicy, and there are pots simmering and fresh herbs on cutting boards in the kitchen.

“The red will go perfect with dinner actually...”

He hums as he finishes up the final touches on dinner, chicken cacciatore with wild rice and a baby spinach salad with blueberries and candied pecans for a starter.

“Take this to the table for me?”

He hands Dean a stack of plates, bowls and silverware, and follows close behind with the salad bowl and plate of chicken and rice.

* * * *

Dean feels odd and strangely out of place. It's as if everything's changed since Gabriel called but Dean's not sure what to make out of it. He takes the dishes and carries them over to the table in the living room, laying the table for the two of them. He stays standing next to one of the chairs, watching Castiel setting down the food. Not much later Dean opens the first bottle of red wine and pours both of them a glass. They toast to Castiel's invitation and the 'food-gasm food' and Dean almost empties his glass with one gulp. While eating his salad he's unusually quiet and when Castiel pours him a second glass of wine, Dean can't hold back anymore.

"Why didn't you tell me you're gay?"

He bites his tongue. A hundred points for being subtle, Winchester... He can see Castiel stiffen and immediately regrets being so confrontational. He averts his gaze, looking down on his half-eaten salad - which is ridiculously good by the way.

"I mean... it's not like it makes a difference... I like you nevertheless but - but did I really have to find out from Gabriel?"

* * * *

Castiel spills the wine and cusses, standing up awkwardly and grabbing his napkin to clean up the spill. He keeps his eyes on the table while Dean speaks, wiping the same spot over and over for a minute until the silence that hangs in the air after Dean's question is unbearable. Castiel takes a deep breath and exhales, speaking quietly while still staring at the table.

“...It never really came up... We talked about Jessi and my relationships... I just... I don't know Dean.”

He looks up and catches Dean's eyes, Castiel's own pained just slightly, his brow furrowed with worry.

“I guess I thought it would make our friendship complicated... Like maybe once you found out about my being gay you wouldn't want to see me anymore?”

He gnaws on his lower lip and takes a step away from the table.

“Sorry, that was pretty stupid of me...”

* * * *

"Yeah,” Dean says, still looking anywhere but at Castiel "Yeah, it was pretty stupid... how the hell was I supposed to know Jessi was a dude? I feel like an idiot, Cas!"

He didn't intend getting louder but by now he's practically yelling.

"Tell me one thing, Cas - did you plan on telling me at some point? Or did you have too much fun watching me being totally clueless?"

He stands up abruptly, walking around the table to stand right next to Cas, looking down on him with a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face.

* * * *

Castiel gapes at Dean, and then feels anger bubbling over inside of him.

“I wasn't laughing at you or anything, Dean! Look- I'm sorry I lied to you, but honestly like you said, it shouldn't matter!”

Castiel takes another step back, hating confrontation, he was always bad at arguments and fights- he always ended up crying or leaving or both.

“Why does it matter if I like guys?! We should still be able to be friends....”

His words trail off and he looks away, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. They were supposed to have a nice dinner, maybe watch a movie, and Castiel could bask in Dean's glow for just a little bit. Dammit Gabriel. Castiel's lower lip quivers and he blinks rapidly, trying his hardest not to let the burning in his eyes become tears of anger.

* * * *

"Jesus, Cas, weren't you listening? I have no problem with you being gay - I fucking hate being lied to though!"

He takes a step towards the other man, even though he had retreated from him and suddenly Castiel's back hits the living-room wall and Dean is all up in his personal space. He lets his gaze drop to Castiel's lips, traveling down his neck and tastefully dressed body. When he looks back up, Castiel's cheeks are flushed and his eyes are fucking glistening in the faint light.

"So... what am I to you, huh?" he asks and his voice is now quiet and rough, his breath grazing over Castiel's heated skin "Just a 'friend'?"

* * * *

Castiel feels his skin crawl, shiver, in the most delicious way as Dean holds him in place with just his gaze. Castiel's mouth is suddenly very dry and he would give anything for a drink, but then Dean speaks again and his stomach drops away into his feet.

Blue eyes stare at Dean's mouth as he speaks, then slowly travel up and lock on Dean's, his voice soft and achingly forlorn when he speaks.

“That's all you can be, right Dean?”

The whispered words hang in the air and Castiel holds his hands at his side, itching to touch Dean again, but knowing that if he did in that moment he wouldn't be able to stop.

* * * *

Dean keeps still. He's holding his breath, his eyes holding Castiel's gaze. He could leave, right now. He could turn around and get his shoes and get the fuck out of this place, get some room, some time to think. But he doesn't move, can't move. Doesn't want to move.

"Yeah,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, before he takes another step towards Castiel, bringing his hands up to rest them next to Castiel's face, caging him against the wall "friends..."

And then he leans down, capturing the other man's lips with his in a fierce kiss.

* * * *

Castiel's breath hitches in his throat and he's frozen for a second before he kisses Dean back. His hands coming up swiftly to wrap around Dean's back and pull his body tight against Castiel's, desperate for more contact. He's not sure if this is going to last, but dammit he wants it to- Castiel wants this moment to last forever.

His head swims as he kisses Dean, opening his mouth to the taller man, trembling from how fierce Dean's possession of him had been.

There's a flicker of a thought about Lisa, and how straight Dean is, but Castiel banishes them to the back of his mind with the overpowering thought of 'Dean's not drunk this time', and gives in to the pleasure coursing through his lips.

* * * *

There's nothing gentle or careful about this kiss and normally Dean would scare himself by such an unreasonable action. But with Castiel pressing his whole body against him and opening his lips with a small moan Dean can't bring himself to care much for reasoning. He steps closer, spreading Castiel's legs by pressing his own knee between them, while his tongue slips inside his mouth, devouring him and taking in every sound the other man makes. Cas is hard and the realization hits Dean like a sledgehammer - the barbeque, the Jacuzzi - him and Castiel, kissing. How the hell could he forget something like that? How likely was it that Castiel too didn't remember? Not very, Dean answered his own question and the thought of being the only one left in the dark stirs up his anger even more. He pulls Castiel up, wraps his long and slender legs around his own torso and turns them around, carrying Castiel over to the table a few steps away. He doesn't break the kiss, as he reaches out one hand to sweep the dishes and food bowls all to one side of the large table and pushes Castiel down on the now clean surface. Leaning over his pale, trembling body, his fingers find the collar of the other man's shirt and rip it open. He lowers his head, kissing and biting a trail from Castiel's lips down to his collarbone.

* * * *

Castiel would normally freak about food or wine being spilled onto the table or his floor or perhaps the buttons popping off his shirt like they were alive, but he couldn't care less in the moment. His thoughts are only on Dean. Dean was consuming him whole, kissing and biting and touching, every place on his body that Dean touched felt like it was on fire, licked by molten heat. Castiel's back arches towards Dean's touch and a strange mewling sound escapes his lips that quickly transforms into a gasp as Dean touches his sensitive neck and collarbone skin.

“Ah!”

The gasp is loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, but Castiel can barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, his heart thrumming a million miles an hour. His bare toes curl in the air as his legs dangle over the edge of the table, Dean leaning over him, pinning Castiel in place with his own body. Castiel's fingers deftly card through Dean's short hair, gripping slightly whenever a wave of pleasure shivers up his spine. Dean's insistence, his raw power are exactly like Castiel's fantasies, and he can't help but wonder if this is just because he pissed him off- but he suddenly doesn't care as Dean bites down hard on his collarbone again and his hips roll up towards the man above him and a moan escapes his lips.

* * * *

Every movement, every sound Castiel makes spurs Dean on. He feels like he's in a rush, high on some kind of drug nobody has ever heard of. His hands slide down Castiel's body, gripping his hips tight and grinding down his own pelvis, the friction of their cocks making him gasp for air and eliciting a desperate moan from Castiel's throat. He lets his hands travel back upwards, sliding underneath the shirt Castiel's wearing, cold fingertips brushing against heated skin. His lips find Castiel's and Dean locks his eyes with his, the other man's pupils wide and lust-blown. He kisses him hungrily, licking his mouth open and biting down on his upper lip, drinking in his gasps like he needs them to live.

* * * *

Castiel struggles beneath Dean, not for the upper hand, but for more contact. His hands brush down Dean's torso to grasp the edge of his shirt, pulling violently upwards.

“Take it off.”

His voice is gravelly and deep, harsh from how thick his throat feels in the moment. Castiel's breath is coming fast now, breathing in the scent of Dean's lips whenever he moves close. Those blue eyes look up at Dean, wide and open, unblinking as they stare up from that pale face. Castiel wanted him, that much was plain to see. His hips arch up to grind against Dean's again, the hint of a smile starting at the corner of Castiel's lips at Dean's reaction.

* * * *

He's biting his lips at Castiel's commanding tone and gasps at the sudden friction of their groins pressing together. Without hesitating he reaches up, pulling the long sleeve over his head, untangling the bandana around his neck and tossing both carelessly somewhere on the ground. Once their upper bodies are both naked, Dean grinds back down again, pressing his bare chest against Castiel's. This is crazy, it's insane! He's never done this before, never even thought about doing this - and yet he can't seem to stop himself from touching every inch of Castiel's body, from tasting every droplet of sweat, taking in his unique scent of rain and ocean and sex. One hand is resting on Castiel's shoulder, while the other sneaks its way downwards, tugging blindly at the button of Castiel's pants.

* * * *

Castiel murmurs against Dean's lips, nothing intelligible, and uses a free hand to gently pull his hair to guide Dean's head to turn one way. His lips ghost up Dean's chin to his ear where he nips at the lobe, soft breath in Dean's ear, warm and wet as gentle moans escape Castiel's lips. Everything Dean is doing is torture, and Castiel wants moremoremore. His hips arch up again as his other hand digs into the skin on Dean's back, nails biting in just enough to sting oh so deliciously.

“Ah... Dean..”

The button pops on his jeans and Castiel's skin flushes even more, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind where this is going, and not stopping it like he probably should. Castiel's sharp hipbones stand out when he's arched back like this, the soft hollow beside them angling down towards a hidden playground, seeming to beckon to Dean to explore further.

* * * *

Once he pulled down the zipper of Castiel's pants, his hand cups the other man through the thin fabric of his shorts. He's already rock-hard and Dean doesn't even care to be surprised or grossed out by it. He hooks his fingers in the hem of Castiel's underwear, pulling them down together with his jeans, sliding both garments off his legs and down to the ground. He stills for a moment, panting heavily, looking down on Castiel, eyes clouded with lust. Then he raises his hand up to his lips, sliding his tongue over his palm for a few, breathless seconds, before reaching down to wrap his fingers around Castiel's leaking cock.

* * * *

Castiel lies still, breathing hard as he looks up at Dean just staring at him. There’s a split second where he’s terrified that Dean will run off, leaving him lying on his table naked and ashamed, but then he’s back and there’s a hand on his cock and oh GOD. Castiel almost sits up at the sudden pressure and friction on his cock, the jolt reaching into his spine and snapping up into his brain like lightening. “Ah!” The sound that lurches out of his mouth is a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and Dean can tell from how Castiel’s stomach muscles clench that he’s onto something good. Castiel stares up at Dean, unsure of where this is going or how they got here so fast, but enjoying every aching second of it. He tries to memorize the way Dean looks while he’s staring down at him with hooded eyes, licking his lips as his eyes rove over Castiel’s pale body. Castiel trembles from the chill and Dean’s hand, eyes shutting slowly as a groan escapes his throat, his head thrown back from the sensations racing through him like wild beasts. “Nngh….”

* * * *

Dean starts stroking Castiel, closing his fingers tight around his cock, while leaning over his trembling body and kissing his neck, his throat, his chin and his chapped lips. With every second that passes, every movement of Dean’s hands on Castiel’s body he feels his own body stiffen, his erection pressing against the fabric of his jeans. But there’s no time, Dean doesn’t even think of relieving himself, all he wants to do right now is touch and dishevel and wreck Castiel in every way. His hand works vigorously, pushing Castiel closer and closer to the edge.

* * * *

It's not hard to push Castiel over the edge, his entire being is tuned to the way Dean smells and tastes and stares at him normally- now that he's naked and writhing under Dean it's so much worse. Every small stroke on his cock makes his hips arch up for more, and soon enough Castiel is panting and crying out, fingers gripping Dean's back hard, nails digging in.

“Oh-...oh fuck--- Dean!”

He cusses as he comes, his entire body stiffening as his cock empties into Dean's hand and onto his own stomach. Castiel bites his lower lip hard, drawing blood, his knuckles white as he hangs onto Dean's back while the last bites of pleasure roll through him in short spastic waves. It was more intense than anything he'd ever felt, and the fantasies he'd had for months paled in comparison to the real thing.

* * * *

He strokes Cas through his orgasm, his hand slick with the other man's come. Castiel is all over him, legs wrapped tightly around his own and fingers digging in his back. He pulls back a bit, sweat dropping from his forehead down to Castiel's body. They're both panting heavily and share a look that says so much and nothing at all. "C-Cas,” he says and it's the first time he speaks since he pinned Castiel against the table and stroked him to euphoria. Suddenly he has no idea what just happened and how the hell he was supposed to deal with this. He takes a step back, averting his gaze, his eyes falling on the bundle of clothes on the ground. He kneels and collects Castiel's underwear, his pants and Dean's shirt. Without looking at him, he hands Castiel his clothes and pulls his shirt back on. The situation is more than awkward. Dean knows that this isn't something he can easily explain, nothing they can just forget and keep being friends - it's world shattering, final. And it's his fault. He couldn't hold himself back, couldn't stop him from doing something he never even thought about before. And all of the sudden Lisa's face flashes his mind, Lisa who loves him, Lisa who trusted him... He takes another step back, finally looking at Castiel who sat up a little, pressing his clothes to cover his naked body. "I..." he begins but can't continue. What is there to say? His tone is dangerously dark when he speaks again.  
"Not a word - to anyone, you hear me?" he says and it's not at all what he wants to say. He wants to step closer, pull Castiel in his arms and kiss every inch of his body - and it scares him shitless. He looks down on him with a mixed expression of fear and something that feels like love. Then he turns around, collecting his jacket and shoes and leaves Castiel's apartment.

* * * *

Castiel should have known this was coming, and some part of him deep down did, but it still feels like dying as Dean pulls away from him, in more ways than one. Castiel reaches out to stop Dean, or thinks he does, he can't be sure, but Dean is already turning away, and then he's out the door and Castiel feels sick to his stomach.

He sits there, absolutely still for a solid minute, before the tears start. They start slow, rolling and scalding hot down his cheeks, and before he knows it, a wail comes out of his throat. No one would hear him, the walls are too thick here, so he lets it out, strangled and sobbing.

The frustration at meeting the man he was obsessed with, the anger at falling in love with him, and the bittersweet sadness at having that man say his name so very broken with emotion- all of it directed at himself. Why couldn't he just be friends? That was enough right? But Castiel pushed, even unconsciously, he pushed. And now it was over, completely and utterly over. Dean was ashamed of him, ashamed of what they had done – Not a word to anyone, you hear me?- the words echo and ring through Castiel's head and he slumps off the table and onto the floor, curling around the clothes Dean had handed him. His naked form shakes, racked with sobs as he cries all of it out into the night.

Another soul-wrenching cry escapes him, but there's no one to hear, and for once, Castiel wishes someone would.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean's glad he's alone all weekend. Lisa calls on Saturday but only to let him know she's fine and can't wait to come back home. Dean hangs up and feels horrible. He tells himself that this was just a fling, a short moment of confusion, of undisclosed desires, something that would vanish, now that he fulfilled it. He knows he's lying to himself but he goes with it, believes his own lie for as long as he's able to. He doesn't call Castiel the next two weeks, even though his heart aches whenever his mind wanders back to that ominous night. He finds himself worrying about the other man and more than once he stares down on Castiel's number on his cell, too scared to actually call him. Lisa notices something's wrong, of course she does. But Dean can't talk about it, not to her, not to anybody. This would make it concrete... it would make it real. So when another week passes without any sign of life from Castiel, Dean can't stand it anymore. It's Friday night and he prays to God, Castiel is working late. He takes the elevator to the basement and slowly crosses the long corridor leading to the room in which Castiel had first showed him his work. He's not sure if he's glad or terrified when he sees the faint lights of computer screens illuminating the small room and the slumped body in front of them. He clears his throat and feels a sting of pain in his chest when Castiel spins around, his eyes red and puffy from sleep-deprivation and crying.

* * * *

Castiel had spent the last three weeks tearing himself apart. Every little thing they had done together replayed in his head, all the late night talks, the texting and phone calls, everything that had brought Dean into his world, and him into Dean's. Castiel had come to consider Dean as his closest friend among a very small selection of people in this world he even considered friends- and he had lost him. It felt like he lost himself, too, as Dean had brought him out of his shadowed and secluded world and into the light, but now that was gone. Dean had brought the light, and he had taken it with him when he left. The days had stretched from one to another and he had stayed at home, barely eating or drinking anything, until Ruby had basically barged in one night and dragged him to work two weeks ago, forcing him into a new project- one without Dean Winchester at the center, thankfully. Ruby had no idea why Castiel was so sad, no one did; he did a fantastic job of hiding it. All she knew was that the sweet, quiet man was falling apart, and she wasn't going to let him sit at home, alone, and die of a broken heart.

So when Castiel heard the throat clearing behind him, he thought it might be Ruby, or maybe one of the other animators come to check on him, even though they said they were all leaving for the night. But then he turned his chair around.

Dean.

A million things race through Castiel's head, and a dozen emotions flicker one after another across his face. Surprise, confusion, fear, sadness, and finally his face settles into stone, blank and emotionless. He looks down and away from Dean, not meeting his eyes.

"... I didn't tell anyone."

Castiel's voice is weak, wrecked from crying for weeks now, but he's trying oh so hard to hold it together now in front of Dean. It doesn't matter though, Dean can see how bad it is in the way Castiel has to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay, or the way his lower lip quivers even though he's biting it viciously from the inside.

* * * *

The words cut like razors and Dean lowers his head, averting his gaze from the obviously broken man.

"I... thanks,” he says, although it doesn't even begin to cover what he wants to say. Minutes pass in complete silence and Dean asks himself if it had been such a good idea to come. It doesn't matter though, he's here now. Castiel is fine - apart from the blatant misery he's in - and Dean feels relief washing over him. Finally he looks up again, standing completely still in the doorframe.

"I came to apologize,” he says, his voice quiet and raspy as he tries to catch Castiel's eyes. There's so much sadness and hurt in those pools of bright blue and Dean can't handle it but he keeps looking, trying to say so much more than he can express with words.

* * * *

Castiel's eyes jolt up to catch Dean's, confusion laced in his brows.

"... W... why?"

His breath feels warm and muggy in his throat and too dense in his chest, the same feeling you get when you hold your breath for far too long under water. What was that? Drowning, yes... Castiel felt like he was drowning sitting there, trying his hardest not to cry or scream or sob or run into Dean's arms and kiss him like he so desperately wanted to.

So Castiel clings to the chair he's sitting in, knuckles turning white with tension, and stares at Dean from across the room.

"I don't understand, Dean, why?"

His voice breaks on the last word, like a crumbling foundation under too heavy a building.

* * * *

Dean turns his head away again and bites his lower lip until he draws blood.

"Jesus, Cas, I don't know,” he hisses, focusing on one of the screens where a drawing of a child's face smiles at him brightly "I... I know I fucked up... I know it's my fault and I feel horrible..."

He finally looks up, right in Castiel's eyes, and shakes his head slightly.

"I... I really like you Cas,” he says, taking an indecisive step towards the other man. "I don't... this, whatever this is... I don't wanna lose it... I just... I can't leave my fiancée..."

* * * *

Castiel swallows around the lump in his throat and mentally shoves everything that is right and good to the back of his mind. 'I won't lose him again’ he thinks to himself as he slowly stands up and walks to Dean, closing the gap between the two of them. Castiel reaches out and takes a handful of Dean's open shirt, clenching a loose fist around it and tugging him closer, his head down as he speaks.

"You don't have to..."

Castiel's bright blue eyes look up through dark lashes, his lips parted as he breathes slowly. It seems almost slow motion as he blinks and licks his lower lip, dragging it into his mouth, his upper teeth brushing over it as it slowly slides back out into it's normal position, now wet and pink instead of the normal dry almost chapped appearance.

"Dean..."

His name is said with a throbbing ache, Castiel's eyes still looking up into his as he steps into Dean's personal space, their chests inches apart.

* * * *

"Cas..." Dean says but can't hear himself over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, his heartbeat accelerating and pounding against his ribcage. Castiel's hand is on his chest and his face is so close to his own that Dean can barely concentrate on anything but his wet, glistening lips, the soft pink tongue coming out to moisten them even more. Slowly he raises a hand, putting it over Castiel's and pressing it even closer to his heart. "Cas, what... what are you saying?"

* * * *

Castiel's hand tightens under Dean's, his nails digging into his palm. His eyes search Dean's and he's not 100% sure he sees what he wants there, but there's a glimmer of it, and that's enough for him because it has to be.

"I don't want to lose you either."

He leans up quickly, not giving Dean a chance to respond, and presses his lips to Dean's firmly. Castiel's arms move at the same time, shakily wrapping around Dean's neck and holding on as he kisses him, hungry, wanting, needing. There is so much pain in his voice and only Dean can soothe it, can stop the terrible ache deep in his chest. Castiel hopes with every bit of himself that Dean won't push him away a second time, but will instead hang onto him tight because he can feel himself drifting away.

* * * *

He shivers at Castiel's words and his mouth opens to respond but then Castiel's lips are on his and all that Dean's able to do is sigh and indulge. Dean can't reject him, not again. Seconds pass and still it's just a press of lips on lips. Then he brings up his hands to cup Castiel's face, his tongue softly nudging at the other man's mouth and pushing forward once he's opened his lips for him. Their tongues touch and it's so much more deliberate and gentle than before. Another sigh escapes Dean's throat and gets swallowed by the other man as they're kissing each other with the utmost caution, both anxious not to destroy this moment.

* * * *

Castiel's hands thread through Dean's short hair, fingers gently scratching his scalp as he gets lost in the moment. The scent of Dean is all around him, and he can't help but get a little weak in the knees when Dean touches his face ever so gently. Castiel doesn't want this to end, but he can feel hot tears welling up in his eyes and so he has to stop it, gently pulling away and hiding his face by kissing down Dean's neck, his hands sliding down with his lips. Every inch of Dean that he can touch he does, pushing the shirt away from his chest so all that separates them is a thin undershirt, which Castiel's nips and heated kisses easily soak through. He's on his knees in front of Dean, hands deftly plucking the undershirt up so he can kiss along Dean's hipbones, dragging his lips from one to the other slowly. Seconds tick by and the only sound is Castiel's hot breath on his skin, and the flutter of eyelashes as those blue eyes so filled with lust and something more look up at Dean from just above his belt buckle.

* * * *

When Castiel's lips kiss a wet trail down his neck, Dean gasps and throws his head back, hitting the wall behind him with an unpleasant thump. His hands card through Castiel's hair, tugging at it while the other man slowly but surely gets on his knees in front of him. It's like his mouth is everywhere; his chest, his neck, his hips - Dean sucks in a breath when it brushes ever so lightly over the growing bulge in his pants, fingers resting on his belt buckle, as he looks up at Dean expectantly.

"C-Cas,” Dean breathes, his voice barely a whisper, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal.

* * * *

Castiel takes that as permission and wastes no time in undoing Dean's buckle and popping the button on his jeans. His small hands are nimble, easily pulling Dean's fly down and gently tugging his jeans down off his hips, his boxers coming with them. When Dean's cock almost springs from it's confines, Castiel's eyes flare wide, and he licks his lips before leaning in to ghost breath over the tip. He looks up at Dean as his tongue flicks out of his full mouth and slides over and under the tip, collecting the drop of precome that hung there. Castiel's eyes shut as he savors the moment, before his hands slide back up, one carefully closing around the base of Dean's cock, the other laying flat out over Dean's stomach, white skin against tanned.

* * * *

Dean's hand grips Castiel's scalp tightly as a stifled moan comes over his lips. He's trying so hard to steady his pelvis, to keep himself from thrusting in that wet, hot mouth of his or to pull Castiel closer. He closes his eyes and there are fireworks behind his lids. He's unable to say anything else but: "... more... please..."

* * * *

Castiel's lip twitches in a delicate smirk, and he is more than happy to oblige Dean's moaned request

. He licks his lips quickly and then moves his mouth down Dean's length, surprising him by taking the entire thing in one swift movement until his nose hits Dean's stomach. Castiel hums and slowly withdraws Dean's length from his mouth, his hand replacing the warm wetness to stroke up, following behind his lips closely as he takes Dean's cock out of his mouth to circle the head with his tongue. Teasingly slow this time, Castiel does it again, his tongue swirling along the underside of the head, and then the shaft as he works his way back down. Castiel's hand moves in front of his lips this time until he's halfway down the length and he stops, looking up at Dean to watch his reaction when he slides his mouth all the way back down again, deep throating Dean's cock with ease.

* * * *

"Holy shit,” Dean gasps, his fingers scratching over Castiel's head as he moves his mouth over Dean's cock. He opens his eyes and lowers his head a bit to look down at Castiel. The sight is indescribable. He had had quite a lot of blowjobs in his young life but the sight of Castiel deep throating his cock like it was nothing and looking so fucking beautiful and wrecked in the dim lights is breathtaking. Their eyes lock and with every movement of Castiel's mouth, a soft moan falls over Dean's lips.

* * * *

Castiel smiles around Dean's cock and withdraws it once again, swirling his tongue around the head, which he keeps in his mouth. He holds Dean's hips still with one hand, the other starting a slow twisting motion, with a firm but sliding grip, around Dean's cock moving down and back up all the while slowly increasing speed. His mouth follows closely behind, twisting his head as well in the same motion, all the way down to the hilt and all the way back up, never stopping the way his tongue moves along the underside, pressing and licking, curling under the head when Dean's cock is almost out of his mouth. Castiel loves this, using his mouth and hands to wring these sounds out of Dean, and he feels himself pressed against his jeans, rock hard just from watching Dean move under his hands and lips. Castiel moans around Dean's cock and speeds up a bit more, almost violent in how he pushes Dean deep down his throat. He wants to feel Dean come, almost as if that will wipe everything else that happened away, like they could start over with this moment.

* * * *

It's almost embarrassing how close Dean is after only a few minutes of this. Dean can't bring himself to care, though, not when Castiel's lips around him make him tremble and ache for more like this. He does that thing with his tongue where he's licking just around the tip of his cock and Dean groans, sliding his hands down to Castiel's shoulders and digging his fingers inside the fabric of his shirt. "Cas, I... I'm gonna,” he warns but there is no time for Castiel to pull back. Dean throws his head back and comes without being able to hold back an embarrassingly loud cry.

* * * *

Castiel hangs on through Dean's bucking, pushing with one hand to hold his hips down so he doesn't accidentally choke Cas as he swallows around Dean's cock. As the last spasm goes through Dean and he quiets, Castiel carefully takes Dean's sensitive cock out of his mouth and licks his lips, standing up slowly. Castiel isn't sure what to do next, his own hard on painfully pushing against the zipper of his jeans, one hand brushing down his torso to press against it. He bites his lower lip and looks up at Dean, a hesitant smile gracing his lips, nervous again.

* * * *

It takes a few moments until Dean catches his breath and his vision clears again. He blinks down at Castiel, who's face is red with embarrassment and endeavor. Dean raises a hand to brush over the soft skin of Castiel's cheek, down to his lips, softly pressing them open and leaning down to kiss him. It's weird, tasting himself on Castiel's tongue, but Dean doesn't care. One of his hands curls around Castiel's neck, drawing him closer, while the other one slides down his torso, finally cupping his hard on through the fabric of his jeans. He swallows the silent moan Castiel makes as he opens button and zipper and slides his hand inside Castiel's boxers. It's the second time Dean jerks off Castiel and it's as arousing as it's been the first time. It doesn't take long until Castiel is coming too, spilling his seed over Dean's hand and part of his pants.

* * * *

Castiel has to hang onto Dean this time, his legs shake so badly as he comes. He leans in, sobbing out a cry of pleasure against Dean's neck as the man slowly finishes stroking him. It's delicious and his head swims with it, and it takes Castiel a few seconds before he's able to even breath right again. Once the high wears off most of the way Castiel raises his head to look Dean in the eyes, and then kisses him again. This time there's no urgency, no apologies, nothing dark or desperate hidden in this kiss. It's just a soft, lazy kiss, speaking of the pleasure they just brought one another, and how much time they have to enjoy it.

* * * *

Dean returns the kiss lazily, nibbling gently on Castiel's lower lip. His eyes focus on Castiel, the way he looks at him with fondness and desire. Then Dean leans up and catches a droplet of sweat on his tongue, licking over Castiel's cheek and softly kissing his eyelids, one by one. He wants to say something but really... what could he say? Everything he can think of sounds dumb or awkward so he keeps silent, leaning down again to kiss him, his hands roaming over his back, caressing his shoulders and his neck.

* * * *

Castiel stays silent for a moment as well, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and kissing him back. They stay like this for what feels like hours, but in reality was probably only a very long 5 minutes or so. Castiel finally breaks the kiss, lips sticking to Dean's slightly as he pulls away to look up into his eyes.

"I.... I don't want to lose you Dean.... Just..."

He sighs gently and looks down.

"Come to me when you can."

He brings Dean's hand up, intertwining their fingers and kissing the tip of each of Dean's fingers softly, his eyes shut.

* * * *

Again, the words Castiel breathes against his skin make Dean shiver and his eyes follow his movements, his lips kissing his fingertips ever so lightly. He squeezes Castiel's hand gently, bringing up his other hand to cup his face. He doesn't even have to ask if Castiel is sure, if he knows what he's offering. He can see it in his eyes; the determination, the certainty. So he nods, his thumb softly stroking Castiel's cheek as the other man leans into his touch.

"Kiss me... kiss me again,” he then says, his voice hoarse and needy.

* * * *

And so he does exactly what Dean asks, and kisses him again. Castiel is quiet now; the sexual drive that had pushed him forward before spent and slumbering quietly like a predator after a big meal. Now all he feels is this calm awareness of every cell of his that touches Dean. Every piece of skin or hair that is brushed or caressed or stroked absorbs it like muscle memory to recall later when he's alone again- and Dean is back with Lisa. Castiel's morals jump up fiercely in the back of his mind, screaming at him how very wrong this is, and how dare he, and what right did he have to do this to a woman that, for all he knew, was kind and righteous and good at heart. And Dean loved her, he had to, or he wouldn't be with her. Castiel's skin crawls at this realization and he slowly breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against Dean's, fighting with himself internally. 'Enough, enough! I'm not stealing him, he's not going to leave her for me, he said so himself... let me just have this... please.... just this small piece of him, and it will be enough...' His thoughts fly around and finally settle as he quiets them with the soothing balm of 'this is enough'. Castiel opens his eyes and looks up at Dean, the blue irises so small in the dim light, Castiel's pupils threaten to swallow Dean whole.

* * * *

And Dean takes. He takes as much as he can get, drinking in Castiel's taste, his breaths, the quiet sighs of pleasure. It seems like hours pass until they break the kiss, resting their foreheads against each other. Dean looks down in the slightly smaller man's eyes, licking his lips. He manages a small smile, as his hands continue to stroke Castiel's sides. Eventually he gently pushes Castiel away, one of his hands still on his hip. He wants to stay. But he left Lisa alone in their bed to come here, he betrayed her, betrayed her with a man. He already felt guilty enough. "I gotta go,” he says quietly, bringing up his other hand to brush it softly over the skin of Castiel's neck, his throat and back up to stroke his cheek. He smiles at Castiel, not sure what else to say and makes sure the other man returns the smile before he turns around and leaves. Back in the elevator, he adjusts his clothing and on the drive back home he listens to classic rock as loud as possible, trying his best not to think about what he'd just done, what he'd agreed to. When Lisa wraps her arms around him, still sound asleep, Dean feels so guilty it physically hurts.

* * * *

Castiel washes himself of the sins they just committed by repeating the mantra of 'this is enough' in his head over and over until he believes it. He goes home after finishing the last bit of the animation he'd had set out for himself that night, and crawls into his bed clutching the shirt he wore that day. It smells of Dean, warm and earthy and spicy all at once. He falls asleep thinking about green eyes, freckles, and strong hands.

Castiel doesn't contact Dean, letting Dean make the first move down whatever this path they've forged together could be called. He hangs back and doesn't push, deathly afraid that if he does, it'll be one push too many. So he has his phone on him at all times, checks his email and messages more than ever before, and waits. 'This is enough', he thinks, and believes it, with almost all of himself.

* * * *

Dean doesn't contact Castiel for another whole week. He spends time with Lisa, picking her up after work, talking to her during dinner. It's little things he also did before but with his betrayal in the back of his mind he gives those small occasions more attention, trying to somehow make up for what he did to her. It's Sunday afternoon and Dean and Lisa stand in front of their apartment building, watching the taxi driver throwing her suitcase in the trunk of his cab. "It's only three days, Dean,” she smiles, standing on her toes to kiss him lovingly "I'll be back before you know it." As he watches the car slowly disappearing from his sight, Dean wonders if he's grateful for the last-minute business trip. He waits another hour before he texts Castiel, desire and guilt throbbing in the back of his head. 'How fast can you be here?'

* * * *

There's a five-minute delay in response, but the words make it obvious that Castiel still wants him.

'I'm on my way.'

It's simple, but effective. Castiel was ready the minute Dean texted. He already had a small bag packed for an occasion like this one, and was out of his door and down to his car in record time. The drive there had Castiel cussing at traffic, but within 20 minutes he was at Dean's penthouse, finding a lucky parking spot only a block away.

He knocks on the door a little breathless and takes a moment to adjust his clothes. He didn't take the time to change, and was dressed in worn in jeans, converse and a button up with a silver silk vest over it. No tie today and the collar of the button up open just slightly, his hair messy, and Castiel hadn't even been able to put in his contacts he had left in such a hurry. But he was here, nervous and vibrating with energy.

* * * *

Dean would never admit it but he had been waiting next to the door, desperately waiting for the doorbell to ring. When he hears the silent but firm knock, his body starts tingling and a heartbeat later, he opens the door. He looks slightly disheveled, emitting a sort of sexual attraction Dean can't quite put into words. Dean doesn't waste time with salutations or polite hospitality. He grips the collar of Castiel's button up and yanks him inside, slamming the door behind him and pressing Castiel against it. Biting and sucking on his neck, he leaves a trail of hickeys, before moving up to nibble at his earlobe and finally licking his mouth open. Meanwhile Dean's hands take a hold of Castiel's jacket, practically ripping it off him, letting it fall down on the ground.

* * * *

Castiel wasn't expecting this warm a welcome, but the startled moans that leave his throat show that it's being well received. His hands grip the back of Dean's shirt and he whimpers as the larger man bites and suck on his neck, a warmth pooling in his stomach and trickling down into his groin which each of Dean's touches.

"D-Dean..."

He'd ached to say that name out loud where the right ears could hear it, rather than into his pillow as he climaxed night after lonely night to the idea of the man in front of him taking him, possessing him, much as he was doing now.

Castiel's gasp as the jacket is torn off him is swallowed by Dean's mouth on his, and Castiel can't care about anything else but this. He didn't even ask how long they had together, and he doesn't care as he kisses Dean back just as roughly, teeth scraping Dean's lower lip, capturing it and worrying it gently while his own hands skitter down to yank at the shirt covering the gorgeous body in front of him.

* * * *

Dean only pulls back for a moment to pull his shirt over his head and doing the same for Castiel until both of their chests are naked. He presses against him, his lips finding Castiel's again, as he wraps his arms around his legs and lifts the other man up, just like the first time back at Castiel's place, to carry him through the hallway and into the living room. He still had inhibitions to take him to his bedroom... to the bed he shares with Lisa... sweet, loving, caring Lisa... He shakes his head, dropping Castiel down on the huge couch, crawling over him and keeping on kissing him, hungry and full of desire. "Need you... touch me,” he breathes against Castiel's neck, biting down hard and licking the patch of reddened flesh apologetically.

* * * *

Castiel once again does as asked, his own eyes filled with something like lust and fear, the latter of which quickly disappears as Dean bites his neck again.

"A... ah..."

He licks his lips and trails his hands gently down Dean's chest to his pants, quickly unbuckling and unbuttoning them before sliding one of his hands inside Dean's boxers. He finds Dean rock hard and throbbing and knows that he must have been thinking about this even before Castiel got here. This makes something swell inside Castiel and he grips Dean's cock firmly, fingers trailing down the length and then back up, clumsy within the confines of the boxers and pants.

"Take 'em off..."

* * * *

Obeying immediately, Dean rolls off of Castiel and stands up, sliding one hand inside his boxers, stroking himself once, twice, before hooking his fingers in the loops of his jeans and pulling them down together with his underwear. Leaning back down and over Castiel's trembling body again, he unzips the other man's pants and lets them follow his own on a pile on the ground. A lustful moan escapes his lips when their completely naked bodies brush against each other for the first time. He's painfully hard and Castiel is too, that much is obvious in the faint moonlight, which is the only source of light in the otherwise dark apartment. "F-fuck, Cas,” Dean groans, grabbing the other man's cock and his own with one hand, rubbing them together slowly.

* * * *

Castiel's hips arch up towards Dean and he can't help the gasp and shuddering moan of pleasure that falls from his lips. His breath hitches when Dean grasps his cock and presses his own against it, the sudden heat and friction making his stomach clench. Castiel is desperate for more connection, and reaches up with his hands to pull Dean down for a crushing kiss, his breath coming fast and uneven. Castiel's name, his nickname, on Dean's lips just makes him harder, throbbing for release in the other man's grip. The couch groans beneath them as Dean moves, and Castiel can't help the whimpers that escape his mouth in the form of Dean's name over and over again.

* * * *  
Dean returns the kiss, swallowing down every sigh, every moan Castiel makes, tasting it like it's honey. The pleasure ringing through his body is delicious and the sounds Castiel makes are downright ecstatic. He's been achingly hard since he texted Cas about half an hour ago so it's not too surprising, that he's already close. He leaves Castiel's lips to bite on his collarbone, lick up his neck and suck on his pulse point. It takes him only a few more thrusts until he's gone, coming over his and Castiel's stomach, feeling the other man reaching his climax only shortly after. Dean's not able to hold himself up anymore. He sinks down on Castiel, letting his hand drop to his side and breathing, worrying about semen on the couch for only a moment.

* * * *

Castiel clutches onto Dean, holding him there with his arms wrapped around Dean's warm shoulders. He gently kisses the side of Dean's neck and his ear, breath still coming fast. Castiel wants so badly to whisper how much he cares for Dean, but he keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to scare Dean off, and ruin the moment. His breathing mellows and he finally speaks; voice soft and tickling against Dean's ear.

"Shower...?"

* * * *

Dean pushes himself up a bit, barely enough to be able to look down in Castiel's eyes and give him a small smile. "Yeah,” he says, sitting up and offering Cas a hand to get up as well. He pulls him flush to his body, a finger gently stroking his cheek. "This way." He lets go of Castiel and crosses the living room, entering the hallway and the second bathroom, not the one he and Castiel kissed in first but the slightly smaller one with a large walk-in shower, completely glassed-in. He steps inside, turning on the water and holding his head underneath the jet of water, sighing when at first cold water hits his heated body. Blinking the water away, he looks back at Castiel, who's still standing in the doorframe. "C'mere,” Dean says, holding out a hand in his direction.

* * * *

Castiel walks over, bare feet padding quietly across the marble tiled floor. Everything here was so extravagant, polished and shining. He feels out of place until Dean gently tugs him into the shower and into another kiss. Castiel can't help but laugh, a soft bubble of laughter that echoes in the shower stall slightly. It's the first laugh he's let out since the night Dean left him naked and spent on his dining table, and it sounds foreign to his ears. Castiel looks up into Dean's eyes and gives him a soft half smile, blinking away as the water spray bounces off Dean's shoulders and into his own blue eyes. The water mats down his dark hair, and he laughs again when he realizes he hadn't taken his glasses off just yet.

"Um... glasses?"

He takes them off and holds them, not sure where to put them in the huge shower that they'd be safe.

* * * *

Castiel's laugh is like a drug and Dean finds himself tuning in, his smile widening as he watches the other man's nose crinkle and dimples showing on his cheeks. He takes the glasses out of Castiel's hands and steps out of the shower for a moment to rest them on the large sink. When he returns he closes the glass door behind him and takes a few steps towards Castiel until he's pressed against the white tiled wall. "God, I can't get enough of you,” he growls, tilting his head and sucking on Castiel's neck until another dark bruise forms.

* * * *

Castiel blushes, the red tingeing his pale cheeks obvious as he smiles again, looking down at Dean as the other tilts his head and-

"O... oh..."

Cas bites his lower lip and hisses, the bruise slightly painful, but terribly good as well. He slides his hands up Dean's well-built arms, fingers riding the muscles like hills and valleys until they lock behind his head. Castiel laces his fingers in Dean's hair and pulls gently, guiding those beautiful lips back up to his for another hard kiss. Once that finally ends, he licks his lips slowly, looking into Dean's eyes as his lips quirk towards another smile.

"How long do we have...?"

* * * *

Dean grins as his fingers wrap around Castiel's cock. He leans forward, biting down on his earlobe, then sucking on it before answering in a low, teasing voice.

"All. Night."

In the end, they spend another two rounds of mutual hand jobs in the shower before returning to the living room, where Cas sucks Dean off again. After coming so often in such little time, Dean feels spent and exhausted but oh-so-fucking-good. They lie on their backs on the broad seating surface of the couch, Dean's arm wrapped around Castiel's shoulders, the fingers of his other hand intertwined with Castiel's.

* * * *

Castiel is quiet for a long time, just playing with Dean's hand. He turns it this way and that, marveling at the texture of the skin, the way tendons and veins show when Dean flexes his hand out straight or curls it into a fist. Castiel is fascinated with everything that is Dean, inside and out. He finally works up the courage to speak, and they talk for hours, once again about everything and nothing, comparing favorites and firsts, hopes and dreams. They always manage to skirt around the edges of the future though, avoiding the crushing topics of children, marriage, and anything that would make them talk about what this is. Castiel didn't want to talk about it, and knew that Dean just plain couldn't, and so they left that in the dark, bundled up and covered in a tarp that was weighed down by guilt and fear, left to be covered in dust and time. Castiel eventually turns over to face Dean and starts counting the freckles on his face silently, touching his soft fingers to each one, wide blue eyes flickering all over Dean's face slowly. It's now well past midnight, and Castiel yawns quietly, covering his mouth and looking up at Dean with wide, embarrassed eyes.

"Sorry."

* * * *

Castiel's finger on his cheek tingles and Dean chuckles softly. When the other man's eyes flutter shut for a few seconds and a quiet yawn escapes his lips, Dean smiles and leans in to kiss it from his face. "Sam's coming over for brunch tomorrow,” he slowly says, hoping that Cas caught his drift. He didn't want to throw him out, he really didn't, but explaining a naked man in his arms to his brother, who still thought that Dean and Lisa were the perfect couple, would be more than awkward. He's relieved when Cas smiles back at him and sits up, slowly collecting his clothes from where they had spilled them all over the floor. Dean gets up and walks into the bathroom, throwing a few hands of cold water in his face before getting Cas' glasses. When he returns, the other man is already fully dressed and so Dean steps close to him, putting his glasses back on. He leans forward to kiss Castiel's lips another time, not wanting to let him go already.

* * * *

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean's neck once more and kisses him back, not hungry, not sweet, but a goodbye kiss. It's filled with longing and lust and a bit of desperation. Castiel doesn't want to go either. But he knows he has to, and so he pulls away with a soft, "Goodbye Dean," and then he's out the door, ripped vest in one hand, fumbling for his car keys with the other.

Cas is down the hallway and to the elevator quickly, trying his hardest to keep his breathing even and his eyes dry while he waits for the elevator. He bites his lower lip and sighs in relief when the elevator dings open, as the tears form and start falling silently before the doors are even shut all the way.

This wasn't a good idea. This was going to wreck him, so completely. But the smell of Dean on his clothes and in his skin and the memory of the tiny wrinkles around his eyes were enough to force the tears away by the time he hit the street, and by the time Castiel got home he was resolute in his decision once again. 'This is enough Castiel, this is enough'.

* * * *

Dean spends Sunday morning with his brother and some of their mutual friends. Gabe is there, too, and fuck him, he knows something. He's always grinning like an idiot but that Sunday evening his jokes are even more lewd and teasing than usual. He also talks about Cas a lot, how good he is at pool, how nice he is and he makes sure to thank Dean at least once every half an hour for bringing him into the clique. Dean's glad when they're gone and when Lisa returns on Thursday morning they don't leave bed until late afternoon. He and Castiel don't see each other that often, since Lisa doesn't spend all of her weekends with friends and rather stays home to be with Dean. And Dean likes it, he really does. She's gentle and sweet and when they sleep together, Dean manages to forget about Castiel sometimes. He feels bad about not calling or seeing him at all though, so when Dean's birthday draws near and Lisa decides to throw him a party and send Cas an invitation as well, he's grateful and terrified at the same time.

* * * *

Castiel had been going through Dean withdrawals for a while, doubting himself and this fucked up relationship if you could even call it that. But every time Dean would text him, he would drop everything to run to his side, treasuring every single second he got to spend with Dean alone. The sad thing, he thought to himself, was that Dean seemed to treasure it too. Once they had enough of each other sexually, which always took quite awhile, Dean seemed to relax, really relax, and just BE. Castiel was sure that meant something, it had to right?

'this is enough, this is enough, this is enough...'

The mantra was growing old and stale in his mind, but he clung to it to keep from drowning in need, need for Dean. Castiel wanted him so bad sometimes at night that it physically pained him, and he found himself crawling into bed alone, clutching his chest and silently wishing, praying to a God he didn't really believe in, that it would just stop.

So when the invitation to Dean's Birthday party came in the mail, Castiel's first reaction was one of pure joy and bliss. He was going to get to see Dean again, and soon, later that very week!

But then the realization that this was a birthday party, for all of Dean's family and friends, and his fiancée, hit- and it hit like a ton of bricks. Castiel debated responding and letting them know he was coming for four days, the invitation worn and creased from how many times he opened it and held it in his hands. Finally it was too late to say anything, and the party was that night...

Gabe called him an hour before it started, making sure he would see Castiel there as they hadn't hung out in a few weeks. Castiel talked his way through the conversation stiffly, but finally gave in, saying he would go, despite every rational voice in his head screaming that it was a bad fucking idea.

* * * *

Ever since Lisa had sent the invitations out, Dean had been waiting eagerly for Castiel's response. Friday came - the party was overnight, since Dean's birthday was on the very next day, Saturday - and there hadn't been a word from Castiel though, and Dean found himself more than disappointed. He was expecting something, a text at least, to let him know how Castiel had decided. He told himself that he would've been okay with just about everything, as long as Castiel just told him. So when he opens the door to let Gabriel in, seeing Castiel standing awkwardly next to him takes him completely by surprise. "Cas,” he blurts before realizing that Gabriel is right there and trying to get a grip of himself "Gabe, Cas - you made it!" he finally says, pulling them both in a short hug.

Letting go of Castiel's lean body is harder than he thought. He steps aside, letting them inside, watching Castiel as he gives him a faint smile and walks over to the bar with Gabriel, saying 'hi' to a bunch of others. Lisa joins him a little later and they spend some time in the kitchen, preparing snacks and more drinks for everyone. When Dean returns to the living room he spots Castiel sitting on a bar stool next to Gabriel. He tries to catch his eyes and once he does, Dean smiles at him, his lips forming a silent 'hey'.

* * * *  
Castiel’s heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest as Dean’s eyes meet his. He swallows down what feels like a giant rock in his throat and smiles helplessly back at Dean, mouthing ‘Happy Birthday’ and tilting his head to one side slightly. Castiel wants, needs, to kiss Dean- but he can’t. He keeps his hands around his beer and looks down and away from Dean as Gabe claps him on the shoulder, steering him over to a group of people.

The night continues like this, Cas and Dean never alone in the same space for more than a second, glances across the room lingering longer. Castiel escapes onto the balcony sometime after midnight, when they all shouted “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” to Dean, and Lisa and a gaggle of her friends went into the kitchen to cut up cake and mix more drinks.

He stands to the side, hidden by a ridiculously large potted palm tree, and soaks in the freezing cold air to calm himself down.

Seeing Lisa kiss Dean so passionately, seeing Dean dip her and laugh, it hurt so badly he thought he would collapse right there in the middle of their too perfect living room, the beige carpeting and white walls mocking his pain.  
Outside in the freezing cold night air, Castiel can see his breath and his hands are going numb, but at least he can’t feel anything in the moment.

***  
His arm wrapped around Lisa’s shoulders, Dean endures the numerous toasts to his name. He’s glad when - after cutting the cake and eating a slice of it - Lisa disappears into the kitchen, to mix more Martinis. Some of his married friends leave around 1, having to get home to their children. By 2:30 am there’s only a couple of people left, mostly guys, so Lisa excuses herself to go off to bed with a gentle kiss and Dean considers joining Sam, Gabriel, Balthazar and the others at the bar. They’re all pretty drunk and joking around with each other - but Dean can’t see Castiel anywhere. He leaves the living room, checking the kitchen, the hallway, the TV room and both bathrooms, before finding the other man standing on the balcony. “Geez, what’re you doing out here?” Dean hisses, crossing his arms in front of his chest, to protect his body from the bitter cold “You wanna catch a cold?”

* * * *

Castiel looks up from where he'd been leaning over the railing, watching the cars move like ants below on the lighted street.

"What?... Oh... I'm fine."

His voice is a bit hoarse and his eyes red, but there aren't any tears in them anymore, and it could have just as easily been allergies or irritation, but Dean knows Castiel. Castiel wraps his arms around himself and steps back against the wall, as far from Dean as he can.

"Happy Birthday, Dean."

The smile Castiel offers is a bit sad, but he's trying his best to hold it together, not wanting to ruin Dean's birthday and cry like a child in front of him and whoever else was still inside. Judging by the loud laughter, it was Gabe and his friends.

* * * *

Dean sighs softly, taking a short look over his shoulder before stepping into Castiel's personal space and pressing him against the wall in the darkest corner of the balcony. "Now... can I collect my present?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, looking in Castiel's eyes for a long moment before dipping his head down and capturing Cas' lips with his. It's a short kiss, nothing like the passionate, perfect-relationship-show-off-kiss of him and Lisa almost 3 hours ago. It's tender and gentle and exactly what Dean needed. When he leans back, both of their cheeks are flushed and Dean quickly steps back, licking his lips and turning around to walk over to the railing, watching down on the restless traffic far below them. "You didn't call,” he finally says, his voice not as calm as he intended it to be "I didn't... I wasn't sure you'd come..."

* * * *

The emotion in Dean's voice stirs Castiel from the post-kiss bliss he had been drifting in. He suddenly remembers where they are, and what he had seen earlier, and the pain is just as fresh as it was the minute Dean's lips had touched Lisa's earlier in the night.

"... I didn't know if I was going to..."

He bites his lower lip and looks up at the sky, clear and cloudless.

".... Gabe called."

Castiel wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, so let it hang there, hoping Dean would understand. Understand that Castiel had fought with himself over coming, and that the decision was made for him by Gabe dragging him out of his apartment and up to Dean's penthouse almost by force. He wasn't sure if Dean would, but he was even more unsure of how to express it.

* * * *

Dean lowers his head, looking down on the wooden floor of the balcony, before slowly nodding. "I see..." he says cause he gets it, he really does. He can see that this... this thing between them hurts Cas, and it hurts Dean too. He's caught between two people and he's scared shitless of taking one wrong step and ruining his and everyone else's lives. They stand there in complete silence for another five minutes before Dean walks back to the door, turning to look at Cas expectantly. "Come in,” he says quietly and Castiel does. They join the others at the bar, pretending to be just as cheery and drunk as they are but when they all leave around 4, Dean is glad to be able to stop pretending. Gabriel and Castiel are the last to leave and just like when they arrived, Dean hugs both of them, raising his hand to shortly fondle the back of Castiel's neck before he lets him go. He says "Goodnight" and "Thanks for coming" and "See you" and means "Sleep well" and "Thank you for putting up with this shit for me" and most of all, "I miss you". Lisa's already asleep when he slips under the covers, staying on his side of the bed, not being able to stop thinking about Cas' hurt face for a long time.

* * * *

Castiel doesn't know how to handle the soft goodbye that Dean gives him, but he tries. He goes to bed without tears, and just lies in the dark, trying to unravel the mess they've woven themselves into. In the morning he drags himself out of bed and calls Gabe, needing a night out. He wants to go get drunk and bring some random guy home to try and forget Dean, though the minute he thinks it he has to laugh at how hopeless the idea is. No one could make him forget Dean, and no one could hope to compare.

But Castiel needs to try, it hurts too much to wait and wait and wait for Dean's call, alone in his apartment. So he goes out with Gabe that next night, to a bar, to get wasted and find someone to take his frustrations out on.


	5. Chapter 5

It's 2 am when his phone rings and Dean had just fallen asleep in front of the TV, watching some late night crap. He's sleep-deprived and pissed and when he hears Gabriel babbling on the other end of the line he considers hanging up for a moment. That's when Gabe tells him, completely out of fucking context, that Cas is 'totally making out with some hunky dude at the bar'. Dean stills for a moment, trying to figure out if Gabe's just too drunk to think straight or actually telling the truth for once. "So?" he forces himself to say in a tone that's supposed to be calm and nonchalant "How the hell is that breaking news?" He practically hears Gabriel shrug his shoulders and grin conspiratorially. "Oh, I just felt a little left out and needed someone to share this with,” he flutes and then adds, a little more excited "I think they just left... dude, they're totally gonna-" but Dean already hung up. He sits there for a whole five minutes, staring at the muted TV screen but not actually seeing anything on it. Then, without a recognizable trigger, he jumps up, grabs his leather jacket and heads out into the night. He disregards at least a dozen of traffic rules and makes it over to Castiel's place in less than 15 minutes. When he reaches Castiel's door he's practically pounding against it, praying to God or whoever that he's home and didn't let this stranger take him to his place. Castiel opens the door and Dean doesn't even give him time to say anything or stop him. He storms inside, heading to the living room and then the bedroom before turning around to face Castiel. He's breathing heavily by now, a look of sheer frustration on his face. "Where is he?"

* * * *

Castiel shuts the door behind Dean and then walks back into the living room. He looks disheveled, his hair a mess, half-naked without a shirt on and only wearing pj pants below. His lips look puffy and bruised and there's a hickey on his neck that isn't from Dean, but there's no one else in the apartment besides Dean and Castiel.

“What? ... Dean... what are you talking about?”

He frowns and looks at Dean with a bewildered look. What the hell was Dean talking about? Where was who? Castiel rubs his eyes and then down the rest of his face, looking tired and a little annoyed, plus very drunk still. He hangs onto the back of a chair in the living room while he looks at Dean, waiting for an explanation as to the intrusion into his house at almost 3 in the fucking morning.

* * * *

Dean makes a face at him, turning around again as if he could make out anyone in the faint light of Castiel's apartment by looking just one more time.

"Don't play dumb with me, Castiel!" he shouts when he's almost completely sure they're alone, using his full name for the first time since forever "So what, you're throwing yourself at everyone nowadays? Must be awesome, another guy every night!"

His tone is bitter and angry and disappointed and he turns to look away, not able to stare at the hickey on his neck and the tousled sex hair for a second longer.

* * * *

Castiel takes a lurching step backwards away from Dean, surprise lighting up his face, blue eyes snapping wide open.

“....What... the fuck...”

He stares at Dean for another second before what happened dawns on him. Gabriel. Again. Fucking great.

“Gabe told you didn't he?”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, trying his hardest to ignore the scathing comment Dean has speared at him about Castiel throwing himself at everyone.

* * * *

"And what if he did? Don't beat around the bush, Cas - was it fun? What did you let him do?" Dean turns around now, crossing the distance between them and caging him against the doorframe he now stands in. "Did he touch you here?" he asks, his hand clawing in Castiel's chest, right over his heart. "You definitely let him kiss you, didn't you?" he continues, his face close to Castiel's neck now. He dips out his tongue, licking across the dark hickey the other guy left there and biting down not at all gently. Then he pushes his knee forward, spreading Castiel's legs and rubbing it against his groin, making the other man gasp in surprise. "Did he jerk you off? Or did you suck him?"

* * * *

Castiel whimpers slightly, both in pleasure and pain, as Dean seizes control of his body and bites his neck. He shudders and his eyes shut, his voice shaking in anger as he speaks again.

“I don't understand- ah... how it's any of your business, Dean.”

Castiel opens his eyes and stares at Dean, the anger there touched with utter sadness.

“I'm just your fuck buddy right?... Your fuck buddy you don't even fuck!”

Castiel pushes Dean away from him and walks towards his bedroom, tired of the games. His heart is breaking and Dean is the one with the hammer and chisel, slowly chipping away at the pieces like a master sculptor- Castiel is sure there will be nothing left once he's done. So what if he made out with some guy? So what if he'd had a little bit of innocent fun? Dean didn't own him! Castiel grits his teeth and balls up his fists, whirling around to continue the tirade of angry words at Dean.

* * * *

Dean doesn't give him a chance to continue arguing with him. He follows him to his bedroom, grabbing his wrists once he turned around to face him again and pushing him back against the wall, pinning his hands over his head.

"You really think that?" he growls through gritted teeth, pressing closer until their faces are merely inches apart "You really think you're... this... that this is nothing more than sex?" Disappointment and painful realization so obvious on his face now that Castiel has to see it. He lets go of Castiel's hands and lets his own fall to his sides in defeat.

* * * *

Castiel can't stop it now, the rage and anger and sadness all boiling over, the months of being alone at night wishing Dean was here with him just too much all at once.

“Isn't it, Dean?! Isn't that all this is? I can't... I can't have you... I don't get that right...”

Tears form in his eyes and Castiel trembles, licking his lips and biting the lower one to stop it from quivering.

“... I just wanted someone to want me, all of me... and he did Dean... but... I-I couldn't do it.”

Castiel can't see past the tears in his eyes as he hangs his head, voice cracking as he keeps speaking, fast and soft.

“... It just... it felt so wrong, Dean. It wasn't you... and I... I just wanted it to be you so bad.”

He covers his face with his hands and sobs, embarrassed, sad, and angry all at once. It doesn't help that his head is pounding from the alcohol, or that he never got release earlier, having sent the man away before either of them could find that. The worst part is the tears, rolling hot down his cheeks, each one marking him further about how out of control he let this get.

* * * *

His words are followed by silence. Dean lowered his head, staring at the ground beneath their feet, Castiel's naked toes and his own dark boots. He focuses on those stupid, trivial things, trying to ignore the hurt and the pain in Castiel's voice, his trembling lips or the tears, he knows from hearing his voice alone, that are running down his cheeks.

'It wasn't you' ... 'I just wanted it to be you so bad.'

Castiel's words echo in his head, throbbing against his temples and giving him the worst headache he ever had. When he looks up, Castiel's face is wet with tears, hidden behind his trembling hands and Dean raises his own hands to cup Castiel's face gently, forcing him to look at him. Castiel's eyes are puffy and red and Dean feels a rush of guilt. He hates himself for causing this man so much pain. He takes a careful step closer, resting his forehead against Cas' for a moment before speaking.

"I'm sorry,” he says quietly and he means it. I'm sorry for being such an asshole, I'm sorry for taking, taking, taking and never giving, I'm sorry for hurting you like this, he thinks. "Cas, I'm sorry..." His right hand curls around Castiel's neck, fondling the short hair, while his eyes search for Castiel's. "I... I want you, too, Cas..."

* * * *

A fresh burst of tears comes of out him as he feels himself fold into Dean's arms, his own wrapping around Dean's waist. Castiel wants to stop crying, he's a man not a child dammit, but the tears don't stop and he can't make them. He hangs onto Dean for another minute while his breath evens out and he's finally able to pull back with drying eyes, looking up into Dean's face.

The words behind those red rimmed, so, so blue eyes are apparent, but Castiel knows he can't say them- so he doesn't. Instead, he tilts his head up to kiss Dean, a desperate hungry kiss that speaks of so much need and want and ache.

* * * *

Cas' lips are on his before Dean can say anything else, before he has the chance to think of something else to soothe him with. His lids flutter closed as he returns the kiss, equally passionate and desperate. His hands fall from Castiel's face to his shoulders, fingers digging in the shivering skin and pulling him closer. "Cas,” Dean pants when he pulls back for air for just a second, before resuming to kiss him like he'd die without the press of their lips together. His hands roam over Castiel's body, finding the hem of his pants, nudging at them, and pulling them down eventually. He sinks on his knees in front of the other man, kissing a wet trail over his chest, down his stomach, licking at the well-defined abs, before nuzzling the soft hair just above his cock. He looks up, his eyes clouded with lust and arousal, then dips his head, the tip of his tongue touching the slit of Castiel's cock ever so lightly.

* * * *  
Castiel chokes out a soft moan, head falling back against the wall behind him, trembling under Dean's touch. In the months they'd been doing this, Dean had never gone this far, and Castiel wasn't sure if he ever would. To finally feel Dean's tongue on him, brushing so cautiously over the tip, it was the biggest rush Castiel had ever felt.  
“O..oh...Dean”  
His name is whispered over Castiel's lips, the hips Dean is clinging to arching towards him slightly. Castiel has brought himself to countless climaxes to just this fantasy, but nothing could compare to the real thing. Dean, every inch of that gorgeous man clothed in jeans and leather and smelling like cinnamon and apple pie and earth, kneeling in front of him, and wanting him. Castiel gasps, his mouth opening wide as Dean continues, and Castiel is afraid his knees will give out on him before Dean's through.  
***

The soft sigh his actions elicit from Castiel’s lips are enough to make him painfully hard, hardon pressing against its confines. Dean groans and closes his eyes for a moment. Later. It was about Cas now. It had always been about Cas, he realizes and leans forward to close his lips around the tip of his cock. He takes his time, ever moan from Castiel’s lips spurring him on to go further, to take him in until he hits the back of his mouth. Dean chokes, trying to breath through his nose, before moving his head, grazing his teeth over the soft skin, licking around the tip and swallowing around him. He tries to remember how Cas had done it to him oh-so-many-times, tries to mirror his actions from his memory alone. Cas’ legs are shaking and the sounds he makes are downright ecstatic so Dean guesses he can’t be too bad and continues to suck him off, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.  
****

“Dean... Dean... Ah!”

He bites his lower lip hard, whimpering at the feelings that rush through him. The pressure, heat, and wet sounds coming from Dean's mouth just make him harder, throbbing for release. Castiel's breath was coming in short gasps now, and he knew it wouldn't be long. His mind scrambled over warning Dean, and he reaches out just as his orgasm starts rolling at the base of his spine.

Breathlessly hissing out, “I'm coming...” and gripping at Dean's jacket, Castiel lets go. He lets go and comes, letting Dean hold his hips in place as they jerk towards the man kneeling before him, every wave of pleasure shocking through his body like so many times before- yet somehow new and different and deeper.

* * * *

He hears Castiel whimpering, warning him and pulls back, licking one last time over the twitching tip before replacing his mouth with his hand, stroking Castiel until he comes, long, wet stripes of semen dripping down on the carpet, on Dean's hand and clothes. He leans back in to dip his tongue into the sticky white substance. It's sour and weird, probably not Dean's favorite taste but it's Cas and it's there because of him and a smile forms on Dean's lips. He gets up again, his hands supporting Castiel's shaking body. He pulls Cas in a tight embrace, shushing him with calm and soothing words. They somehow make it over to the bed and suddenly Dean's leaning over Castiel's spent body, looking down on him with hungry eyes.

* * * *

Castiel is still recovering, the post orgasm haze drifting over his mind, and it's only when Dean kisses along his neck and looks at him again that he wakes up from it. Castiel shifts, looking up into Dean's eyes, and he shivers in delight at the look he sees there.

“...Dean...”

He sits up on his elbows, kissing Dean again passionately, biting his lower lip.

“....Fuck me.”

He spreads his legs, the gesture would have been lewd on anyone else, but it's just inviting on Castiel. Long, lean legs bend and Castiel's knees capture the sides of Dean's torso, pulling him down so their hips hit and grind together.

* * * *

There are no words for how much Dean wants Castiel by now. His words make Dean's hard on press even more desperately against his jeans and he's barely able to nod and breathe "Yes" into Castiel's ear. He leans back, stripping off his jacket and button up; finally pulling his undershirt over his head and tossing it somewhere off the bed. Resting on his knees and looking down on Castiel he pops the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper and pulling them down until they're dangling loosely around his knees. Crawling back over Castiel, he kisses him hungrily, grinding his pelvis down and against Castiel's and letting out a sigh of pleasure when their cocks meet through the soft fabric of his boxers.

* * * *

Castiel reaches out, fumbling blindly off the side of the bed for his bedside table. He manages to get the drawer open pulls out the tube of lube that was sitting inside for this specific occasion. He kisses Dean back urgently, speaking in between short, broken kisses.

“Do.... you... know what... to do...?”

He pulls back to look into Dean's eyes, searching for the answer. He wants Dean so fucking badly by this point he's almost ready to just do everything himself, just so he can ride Dean's cock until they're both nothing more than a quivering mass of spent flesh. But Castiel wants to give Dean the opportunity, the chance, to take control and do this however he wants to. He holds the bottle loosely, sitting up on his elbows again slowly.

* * * *

At this point Dean realizes how fucking terrified he is. He's pretty sure he knows the basics, it shouldn't be too different from straight sex, right? But Castiel is so far gone, practically begging for it and it scares Dean. What if he does something wrong, what if he hurts him in the rush of all this, what if he causes Cas even more pain and suffering? He leans down to kiss him, gentle and careful, the fear clearly visible in his eyes. "I don't... I don't wanna hurt you,” he breathes, biting his own lip as he's searching Castiel's eyes for understanding or acceptance. At the same time, something flashes in his mind and he looks down on the bottle of lube and back up to Castiel. "What about condoms?” he asks a little breathless, his cheeks flushing inappropriately.

* * * *

Castiel sees the fear and sighs softly, dropping the bottle to the side and kissing Dean gently, his arms wrapping around the back of Dean's neck.

“Hey... I want this... I want you, Dean...”

He kisses him again and then pulls away, reaching into the open drawer to grasp for a condom.

“Here...”

He hands Dean the condom and then crawls out from underneath him, turning around to push Dean back on the bed, leaning down to quickly pull Dean's boxers down his legs. Castiel smiles up at Dean and then crawls up his legs to take him into his mouth quickly, bobbing his head up and down on Dean's cock for a few moments.

* * * *

Dean has barely time to say something before Castiel's mouth is hot around his cock and renders him speechless. He throws his head back in the pillow, a long stretched moan falling over his lips. It's over too soon, Castiel pulling off and crawling up his body again and Dean uses the time to rip open the foil and rolling the condom over his now fully erect cock. He sits up on his elbows, wrapping an arm around Cas and pulling him in a heated kiss. The sight of Castiel leaning above him, his body completely naked and beaded in sweat and his hair tousled makes Dean even harder and he has to suppress a lewd moan. Then his eyes fall on the hickey on Castiel's neck and once again, anger boils up inside him. He sits up quickly, shifting and pushing Castiel back down on the bed, pinning him onto the mattress and leaning down to suck at the very same place.

"You're mine,” he growls, voice deep and hungry and possessive. He stretches out a hand to grab the bottle of lube lying next to them and coats his index and middle finger in the smooth cream. Holding Castiel's gaze he reaches down between them and ghosts his fingers over his entrance. Looking down, Dean can see the tiny hole twitching, in desperate need of his touch. Then he presses his fingertips against it, keeps going until he's knuckle-deep inside Castiel.

* * * *

Castiel cries out, eyes staying on Dean's; his brows furrowing down at the pressure and pain that mixes inside of him. The pain fades quickly enough and he's able to breathe again, hissing out soft curses at Dean, more to urge him on than to stop him. Castiel wants more, he wants Dean to mark him and take him and possess him.

“Dean!”

His name is practically shouted, desperate on Castiel's lips as his hips buck up, Dean so close to hitting that spot inside of him that Castiel knows makes him go absolutely insane. One of Castiel's hands slides up the arm supporting Dean, fingernails digging in as the pressure inside of him increases with every bit that Dean pushes his own slick fingers further inside of him. It had been at least 10 months since the last time Castiel had been filled like this, and he had missed it, oh god had he missed it. With a soft sigh out he relaxes even further and Dean can feel the resistance around his fingers lessen, Castiel opening up to him.

* * * *

Dean shivers, his name on Castiel's lips so fucking delicious he wants to cry. He pushes further, twisting his fingers and scissoring them slightly. The sounds Castiel makes are encouragement enough for Dean to add a third finger, pushing them in deep and brushing against his insides. Apparently, he finds the right place rather quickly, as Castiel lets out a cry of pleasure, digging his fingernails deeper in Dean's arms and writhing beneath him. Dean makes sure to brush his fingertips over that same spot several times, before pulling his fingers out again. Castiel seems so far gone that he's not even able to express his displeasure of feeling empty again. Dean leans down to kiss his chapped lips, leaning his forehead against Castiel's shoulder as he adjusts his hips, looking for the right angle. And then he's pushing forward, slowly and carefully, just the tip of his slicked up cock pressing inside Castiel's trembling body.

* * * *

Castiel arches his hips up, making it easier for Dean to slide inside of him. Castiel feels pressure and fullness and relief- it was finally happening, Dean was taking him. It was amazing and his breath hitches in his throat as Dean slides even further inside him, holding it until he can't anymore. Castiel takes another shuddering breath and lets out a low moan against Dean's neck, wrapping his arms around the strong shoulders moving above him.

The words are on his lips but he swallows them back, wanting this moment to never end, and knowing full well that it will if he gives voice to what his heart feels.

'This is enough Castiel...' he thinks to himself as Dean says his name in his ear, so soft and wrecked and right. Dean hits the spot inside of him again and Castiel cries out once more, fingernails digging little white half moons into Dean's bare skin.

* * * *

It's messy and passionate and rushed and all Dean can think of is 'Cas, Cas, Cas.’ With every inch of his cock buried deeper inside of the man beneath him, his moans become louder and longer and so do Castiel's. Dean stills when he's completely inside him, forehead resting against Cas' shoulder, both of their breaths coming in voiceless gasps. The emotions and sensations driving him insane, Dean has to wait several moments before he leans back, his weight resting on his arms, and starts moving. It's delicious how with every thrust Castiel's whole body shudders beneath him, his lips part and he's calling Dean's name like he's the only thing in this world that matters.

* * * *

Castiel grabs a pillow from behind him and hurriedly arches his hips up, stuffing it under his lower back, giving Dean the perfect angle with each thrust to bring a halting cry from Cas' lips. His fingers clutch at Dean's strong forearms, Castiel's body opening up and taking Dean in, each thrust bringing both of them closer to ecstasy.

Castiel feels his body start to tense, tightening around Dean below like a vice as his orgasm approaches on swift wings, threatening to tear him from sanity with its intensity. It bubbles up from the back of his mind as Dean thrusts inside of him, filling him to the brim over and over, sparks of sheer pleasure arcing like electricity from deep inside him straight up his spine to overload his brain. Castiel is seeing white by the time he comes for the second time by Dean's administrations that night, back arching straight off the bed and a scream that resembles Dean's name and a thousand angels singing at once comes rocketing out of his throat. His body clamps down on Dean and hangs on with everything it's worth, Castiel's mind too far gone at that point to focus on anything but the spasms of pleasure rolling, licking over his body.

* * * *

Dean's lost in his thrusts, lost in the pleasure this brings both of them but mostly he can't stop looking. Staring down on Castiel, writhing in pleasure and ecstasy, screaming his name as he's coming hard and warm over their bodies. Dean stills for a moment, savoring this moment, the look on Castiel's face, one of sheer rapture, before he pulls back, thrusting in and out of the now limp, quivering body beneath him. It doesn't take long and Dean follows Castiel over the edge, his body tensing and collapsing on the other man's. They lie in silence for minutes, their heavy breaths the only sounds in the otherwise quiet apartment. Somehow, Dean manages to roll off of Castiel, pulling his softening cock out of his body and lying down next to him, one of his arms draped over the other man's chest, his fingers gently curling around the few dark hairs on it. "Cas..." he whispers against the man's shoulder, kissing it, repeating his name two times, three times, not being able to stop.

* * * *

Castiel feels tears starting again as his name is said so gently by Dean, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop them. Thankfully, it works, and he rolls over to pull Dean into a soft kiss, still trembling from the pleasure their sex brought him.

So it continues like this, for hours, alternating between slow kisses and frantic, heated ones, long and languid caresses and fast grunting thrusts. They fuck and kiss and bring each other over the edge, tumbling faster and farther than ever before, dangerously close to the precipice that would bring them both disaster. They never take the leap verbally, but Castiel says it in the way he kisses Dean's eyelids and nose, counts his freckles, and trails his long fingers over Dean's muscular back and shoulders as Dean fucks him into the mattress time and time again. Those blue eyes stare into Dean's, crinkling around the edges as Castiel smiles and says his name over and over.

“Dean.”

* * * *

He's lost track of time long ago, completely lost in everything that is Castiel. The pleasure sweeps over them, over and over again, until neither of them can move a muscle. They lay together, fingers intertwined, legs and arms wrapped around each other, kissing, looking, being. The first rays of sunshine peek through the blinds when Dean realizes just how much time he'd spent kissing and fucking Castiel. He blinks lazily, a yawn escaping his reddened lips as he slowly sits up, letting go of Castiel only reluctantly.

* * * *

Castiel lazily trails his hand down Dean's arm to grasp Dean's fingers in his, bringing the hand to his lips so he can kiss the back of it.

“Shower and then sleep...?”

He yawns and stretches out, letting go of Dean's hands to arch his back like a cat and purr out his pleasure at how good the stretch feels. Castiel is happy in the moment. He's been thoroughly fucked, and he's sure he'll be horrifically sore tomorrow but it was worth it. Dean is still here, and the way he's been looking at Castiel in the quiet moments in between their frenzied times of passion, well, it made Castiel's heart hurt in the best way.

* * * *

For a moment - a very long stretch of time actually - all Dean wants to say is 'yes' and crawl back under the sheets, lose himself inside of Castiel and forget everything. But the morning sun is cruel, revealing all his mistakes, his guilt, the crime he committed by giving into his desires, by doing what his heart kept telling him for months now. He gulps, averting his eyes, afraid that when he keeps looking at Castiel, he'll not be able to say what he has to say.

"I... I can't, Cas..."

The words are quiet and pained and Dean can feel Castiel's eyes burning on his back, can almost taste the salty tears Dean knows he will shed, once he realizes what Dean is saying.

* * * *

Castiel doubts what he heard for a moment, his heart stopping in his chest so there's no sound in the apartment other than the replay in his head of what Dean just said.

'I can't, Cas.'

He swears that each word slices into him, skewering his heart from different directions inside his rib cage, pinning it in place to flutter like a wounded butterfly, flapping desperately to break free.

I. CAN'T. CAS.

Castiel's breathing is hitching in his chest as he feels everything from the last few months, everything roaring over him again, a stampede of emotions and memories assaulting every sense. Castiel shuts his eyes and covers his face with his hands, shaking with anger and rage and sadness, but most of all complete and utter release.

“It's not enough...”

The words are quiet, a whisper, said so much more as an acknowledgment to himself than for Dean's ears. Castiel rolls over on his side, away from Dean, curling around himself as if his thin arms could somehow protect him from Dean leaving like this. He speaks quietly, barely above a whisper, his voice breaking and rusting in his throat.

“....Get out...”

* * * *

It's what he had expected. It's the only logical conclusion, the only reasonable reply to Dean's rejection. Still, Castiel's words cut like razors into Dean's skin, making him bite down on his lip in order to muffle the frantic cry that wants to break free so desperately. He wants to reach out, pull Cas into his arms, tell him sorry over and over again until he believes it but he knows it's too late.

"Cas-" he says quietly, still looking down on his legs, the dark carpet, the walls of Castiel's bedroom where sunbeams form the most peculiar shadows. But Castiel interrupts him, repeating his words, louder this time, and Dean falls silent. He slips out of the bed, bending down to collect his clothes and getting dressed quickly, silently. He stands in the door, looking down on Castiel's naked body, hating God and the world but most of all himself. 'There' s nothing left to say,’ he thinks as he turns around and leaves the apartment. He drives home slowly, his body, his whole being, completely numb. When he unlocks the door to his apartment, he's welcomed by silence. Lisa is still asleep, looking so vulnerable, so innocent and Dean can't hold back the tears rolling over his cheeks, guilt and desperation and self-hatred and regret tearing him apart from the inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Lisa wakes up to the sound of Dean crying, something that she hasn't heard in what seems like years. Her eyes go wide and she crawls across the bed to him, wrapping him in thin, caramel colored arms.

“Hey-hey... Dean, baby, what's wrong?”

Before she can even finish the sentence she smells it- the all too familiar scent she's been smelling every now and then on Dean's clothes or in his hair or on his skin for a good 4 months now.

Lisa wasn't stupid, she knew about Dean's past indiscretions. He was a movie star, there would always be fan girls, and she could deal with that. There would be drunken flings or blowjobs at a club, and as long as Dean didn't get caught, or get a disease, she tolerated it. It was part of being a movie star's girlfriend.

It had never been like this though. Dean had been growing more and more distant over the past few months. Before this had started, they'd had their fights, quarrels, even separated once or twice. But Lisa had always thought that Dean would come back to her, because they belonged together, because they loved each other. In the past few months though, Dean's smile was forced in public, and his actions mechanical. Their lovemaking was just as fierce, but she could swear that he was elsewhere, with someone else, every time.

And now here he was, smelling so strongly of sex and another person, crying in their bed... and all she could do was hold him and frown and rub his back.

“Baby...”

* * * *

She knows. Of course she does. Dean's stiff in her embrace, not returning it, not moving at all for a long time, tears falling silently on her naked shoulders. Finally, he pulls back, pushing away her open arms, shushing her gentle, soothing voice. He hates himself so much for doing this to her, for putting her through this - he never wanted to hurt anyone and here he is, in the exact position to crush the hopes and dreams of two people in one night.

"It's nothing,” he says, his words shaky as he still tries to stop crying but they both know he's lying.

* * * *

Lisa frowns and sits back on the bed, her legs folded beneath her. She racks her mind, trying to pinpoint when exactly this all started, when the foreign smell came into her house and when her boyfriend started drifting apart from her.

One name sticks out above them all and she stiffens as well, her mind racing through an inner dialogue.

No, it couldn't be... but the timing was almost exact... and the looks they shared at Dean's birthday party...

Lisa looks up, her face sallow and drawn, brow furrowed. There was really only one conclusion that made all of this make sense. It wasn't a fling, it wasn't a one-night stand, and it wasn't some fangirl. She looks at Dean's eyes, reaching out a hand to guide his face so he is forced to look at her.

“You're in love with him aren't you...?”

Her voice is soft but tinged with sadness, questioning more than accusing, and her look is concerned more than angry. She's never seen Dean like this, in so much obvious pain.

* * * *

Dean stares at her for a full ten seconds before the meaning of her words finally sinks in.

"No!" he says a little too quickly and too guilty, still denying what seems to be obvious even to Lisa, the woman he had known and loved since high school. "No,” he repeats, quieter this time, looking her in the eye and knowing that he could continue lying to himself but not to her. She knows him, everything about him and it breaks his heart that she saw what had happened even before he himself had realized.

"I couldn't... Lis... I..."

* * * *

The fury that comes to her face is swift, like it always is, and she snaps at him.

“Dammit Dean Winchester don't you lie to me!”

Lisa gets up off the bed and stalks back and forth across their bedroom, her voice ranging between righteous fury to sadness, volume changing just as rapidly.

“I knew it! I mean... I didn't KNOW IT, know it, but I thought something was happening!... You just... you were always so happy Dean, so happy... whenever you came back from seeing him...”

She turns her head to look at him, stopping her pacing to stare at Dean and sigh.

“You haven't been that excited to see me in months...... You love him, Dean....”

She smiles and it's a painful one, filled with sadness and betrayal and not one ounce of true surprise.

“You've done this before... slept around...”

She raises a hand to keep his excuses at bay.

“... and I've let it slide because it didn't really matter in the long run... you loved me, not them.”

Lisa bites her lower lip and tears well up in her eyes as she speaks again.

“... but you do love him... You love Castiel.”

* * * *

He lets her talk, staying seated on the edge of the bed, looking down on the insanely white carpet of their bedroom. She was right, of course... he'd been cheating on her occasionally, fucking a fan in the back of his car on the way to an awards show or enjoying a free evening at a strip club. He had tried to tell himself that this, that the thing he and Castiel had was the same. Just another affair, something to blow off steam before returning to his safe, steady home and his loving girlfriend. The tears had stopped flowing and once again, Dean feels broken and numb. When he looks up again, Lisa's crying too, her face wet with tears but her eyes loving and understanding instead of condemning and despising.

"Fuck,” he curses under his breath, shaking his head, looking at her with so much sorrow and guilt in his eyes. He stands up, stepping closer to her, taking her hands in his and pressing them to his chest "Lis... I'm so sorry..."

* * * *

She shakes as she wrenches her hands from his and reels back, slapping him across his perfect face with a cry of hurt and anger. Then before he can even react Lisa's wrapped her arms around his neck and is sobbing as she kisses him, soothing over his stinging cheek to his lips.  
The kisses aren't passionate or desperate or even romantic. They're sad, soft, sweet, and they say only one thing: goodbye.

* * * *

Dean kisses her back reluctantly, not sure if he'd be able to let go of her again. It feels like farewell, like the end and Dean feels tears running over his cheeks, not sure if it's Lisa's or his own. It's Lisa who pulls back first, touching his lips once more with the tips of her fingers before turning around and leaving the bedroom. He hears her rummaging through the drawers and cupboards in the walk-in closet and then she's out the door. Without another word, without goodbye. Dean doesn't follow her. It's over, there's nothing left to say, nothing there to save. He lost the two most important people in his life- other than his family - and staring at the walls, covered with framed pictures of him and Lisa, the tears start falling again.

* * * *

Lisa leaves the apartment, and Dean, behind to go to a friend's house to stay. Dean, Lisa and Castiel pass the next month alone, each with their own sorrows and worries and broken hearts. Lisa is finally starting to recover, going out with friends and talking to people again, when she meets Gabe in a shopping center, and they talk for what feels like ages. She is surprised when Gabe tells her that Castiel and Dean haven't spoken since she left Dean. She had assumed that with her breaking things off, Dean would admit his love of Castiel, and seek the other man out. Lisa loved Dean, but not enough to stick around and watch him fall in love with someone else. No one should have to suffer through that. So she left, and prayed that he would find his happiness. But he hadn't.

She worries for a few days, wondering if she should interfere or not, and finally settles on going to see Dean on a early Sunday morning, hoping that he would talk to her as the good friend she felt he still was.

* * * *

Dean's in bed when Lisa rings on his door. In fact, he had barely left the room, let alone the apartment in the past few weeks. Losing Lisa and Cas in one night had broken him in so many ways. He'd had some press conferences, interviews and a few parties to attend but it had been clear to everybody that he was miserable and rather be at home alone. So when he opens the door and sees Lisa, he's feeling a mixture of shock and anxiety and considers shutting the door again as quickly as possible. "Hey,” he says instead, trying to force a smile on his face and failing miserably. Lisa doesn't look bad. In fact, she looks not half as bad as Dean feels, considering that she had been the one who had been cheated upon.

* * * *

Lisa's eyes widen and she gasps, then hugs Dean tight.

“God, sweetie, you can't do this to yourself...”

She sighs and lets him go after a minute, backing away and tilting her head to give him a soft, sad smile.

“I didn't leave you so you could wallow in self pity the rest of your life Dean.”

Lisa turns him around and pushes him back into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. She guides him into the kitchen and orders him to sit down at the bar while she makes them lunch, not taking no for an answer. Lisa is still hurting, but after 4 months of Dean pulling slowly away, distant sex and forced smiles, she was a little relieved to know that it wasn't her fault. She wasn't the one that had changed, it was Dean. And she was wise enough to know that you couldn't help who you fell in love with, only how you chose to deal with it. So she gives him an earful about how astronomically stupid he was to not admit it to her, and himself, when he first suspected he was in love, before it became the huge mess he had let it become. She puts together some grilled cheese sandwiches for them while she's talking to him, keeping her hands busy so she doesn't start gesturing wildly. Lisa finishes it off by brandishing the spatula at him like it's a sword and stating, matter-of-factly.

“You're an idiot. No matter what happened, or will happen, you're my friend Dean, and I love you... that will never change, okay?”

* * * *

Dean can't quite comprehend how Lisa can be like this. She must have been angry about this, sad and disappointed, mourning their lost relationship, their future together. Yet she stood here in their apartment, making sandwiches and telling him to go get the man he loved and try being happy. He shakes his head, setting down his half-eaten sandwich - his first real meal for days - and looking up at Lisa.

"How can you be like this?” he asks, his voice calm and unsure "This mess... everything... it's all my fault..."

He falls silent again, looking at her with so much regret and self-loathing in his eyes.

"It's over, Lis... I don't think he ever wants to see me again after what I did to him..."

* * * *

She chews the mouthful of sandwich she had just taken and swallows before speaking, calm and a little sad.

“I watched you pull away from me for 4 months... You tried Dean, you really did, to not let me see it... but you couldn't stop it. You fell in love with him”

She shrugs and gives Dean a sad, closed lip smile.

“I'd rather have you happy, with him, than unhappy and sneaking behind my back to be with him... It would have been unfair to everyone for us to try to stay together. I deserve more than you were giving me, and you deserve to be honest and happy in a relationship. I don't know Castiel very well... but if you love him-”

Lisa takes Dean's hand in hers, squeezes gently.

“Then he must be worth it.”

She walks around the bar to hug Dean again, rubbing his back gently, before taking a seat beside him on her own barstool.

“... What happened with him?"

* * * *

Dean bites his lip hard while listening to Lisa talk. It hurts hearing her talk so fondly of Castiel when all he can think about it the disappointment in his voice when he had last seen him. Reluctantly, he tells her about that night, how Gabriel called him and how Dean had been furious, driving over to confront Castiel. How he'd told Dean - not with words but with his every move and the way he looked at him - that he loved him. He didn't talk in detail about what had happened then, only that after they'd spent the night together and Dean had forced himself to leave, to go back home to her, Castiel had told him to get out. That he didn't even look at him or say goodbye.

"It's over,” Dean says again "I fucked up everything."

* * * *

Lisa's face goes from one of someone just listening to a story to that of someone listening to something a little painful to hear. It's still raw, but she wants to be there for Dean, and she can push aside the emotions for just enough time to help her friend find the happiness she knows he deserves. Despite all the dickish moves Dean has pulled and how much he hurt her, she can't wish him any more pain. It's obvious from the circles under his eyes and the slump in his back how badly he hurts.

And how badly he misses Castiel.

“Go to him Dean.”

She takes Dean's chin in her hand and smiles softly, her brow furrowing as she speaks in a sincere voice, urging him on.

“You have to...If you love him, and it sounds like he loves you, then go to him. Fight. Beg for forgiveness....What do you have to lose?”

She arched a brow at him, a challenge. What did Dean have to lose by going to Castiel once more? Nothing, from where Lisa sat.

* * * *

And she was right. Of course she was. They sat in silence for a while, Lisa cupping his face and both of them just looking at each other. When she had left half an hour later, she'd packed another suitcase full of clothes and left Dean with a soft smile and an even softer kiss that said 'Goodbye' and 'Take care' and 'Be happy'. And Dean had to promise her to try. So once the door closes, he gets out of the smelly leisure suit and under the shower. He doesn't put on aftershave or style his hair, only puts on fresh clothes before getting in his car. It takes him about 20 minutes to Castiel's place and another 10 before he finally manages to convince himself to ring his doorbell.

* * * *

There isn't a sound from inside the apartment for a minute, and Dean begins to wonder if Castiel is even home, before the sound of locks clicking open comes and he straightens up. The door opens and Castiel stands there, looking half-dead. He's skinny, no longer just leanly muscled, but actually skinny, his cheeks slightly sunken in and the circles under his eyes are the worst Dean's ever seen. His eyes are the same though, that vivid brilliant blue that speaks of Caribbean oceans and highly pigmented paint fresh out of the tube. Castiel's mouth drops open slightly and his brows knit together in confusion. He wants to say something, but no real words come as tears form in his eyes. The only thing he can do is reach out and pull Dean into a hug, sobbing against his neck with wet sounds that come out like 'I'm so sorry' and 'please' and 'stay'. Castiel isn't making any sense, and the harder he tries, the harder it is to get anything out. So he stops trying and just wraps his arms around Dean's neck tighter, standing in the doorway of his apartment like an idiot, clinging to the only man he's ever wanted this badly.

The past month has been hell for Castiel. He kept wanting to call Dean and say he was sorry and that he understood, but he couldn't, because when he was honest with himself he knew it wasn't enough. What Dean could give him wasn't enough, he wanted more, dammit he wanted it all. Castiel wanted all of Dean and had from the beginning. He had settled for whatever Dean could give him, scraps of attention feeding him just enough to keep his heart from starving but finally it snapped back and he couldn't take it anymore. So he had banished his Prince from his Kingdom, and almost instantly regretted it. The past month had been hell on Earth, and there was nothing Castiel could do to take those words back.

And then the bell rang.

And now he's in Dean's arms and he never wants to let go, it doesn't matter, it can't matter, he'll try to settle again, really, he just needs Dean in his life- any part of him Castiel can get, he just can't let him go again. Not again.

* * * *

There's terror in Dean's eyes when Castiel - the broken and empty shell of what was once Castiel - opens the door. He's so terribly thin, he looks like he'd faint any moment and when he falls in his arms, wrapping himself around Dean in every way possible, Dean is almost reluctant to return the embrace, scared to break what is left of the man he now knows he's in love with. His throat constricts, rendering him speechless for several minutes, so all he does for now is curling his hand around the back of Castiel's neck, the other hand gently stroking his back, as Castiel sobs against his shoulder. Finally, Dean finds the courage to speak, although his every word is spoken quietly, careful and so incredibly full of fear.

"It's all my fault, Cas,” he says, breath hitching, his voice nothing more than a whisper "God, I'm so sorry... I..."

He stops, taking a deep breath before pulling away only slightly, stemming against Castiel who seems to never want to let go of him again, and putting a hand underneath his chin, pushing it up to force him to look at him. He knows it's probably too late and he would understand if Castiel hated him with every fiber of his being. But he had to say this, he had to try. He'd promised Lisa. And he wanted it more than anything else in this world.

"Cas- I love you."

* * * *

He freezes in Dean's arms, not even breathing for a second after hearing those three words he'd been aching to hear for months. Castiel pulls back slowly, his face twisted into a mask of confusion and tears. He shakes his head slowly, looking down as he backs away from Dean a step, into the apartment.

“Please don't lie to me Dean...”

He was hoping inside, a tiny seed of hope just waiting for more sunlight and water and soil, wanting to be planted so he could trust Dean again. Castiel wanted to so badly, but history had shown he couldn't, that every time he did, Dean was stolen away from him. Castiel was terrified of this, terrified that it was a lie, and that it was true, because either way meant more heartbreak... because he couldn't have Dean, not really. Dean still belonged to Lisa, and that wasn't going to change. Castiel's lower lip quivers and he shuts his eyes against the sting of more tears.

* * * *

Dean shakes his head, following Castiel's movements and taking a step towards him. He catches a hold of his hand and raises it to his lips, softly kissing his fingertips.

"Lisa left me," he says and sees the surprise and hints of guilt in Castiel's eyes "She realized that we were drifting apart even before I did... she saw that I couldn't love her anymore because... because I'd fallen in love with you."

Taking another step in Castiel's personal space and cupping his cheek with his free hand, Dean smiles - it's the first time for weeks, actually since he and Castiel stopped seeing each other. And it feels so good.

* * * *

Castiel is still confused, but his chest heaves slightly as he breathes in deep breaths, his heart fluttering with renewed hope.

“She... left you?”

He repeats Dean dumbly, one hand coming up to lay on the outside of the hand Dean had pressed to his cheek. Castiel hums softly and shuts his eyes as he leans into the hand. It's a gentle sound of contentment that he's not even sure he should allow himself to make just yet. Castiel feels like he's standing in quicksand and any sudden movement in any direction will drag him down again, just when he's starting to feel like he might be capable of being free, of flying. Flying like he did whenever he was in Dean's arms and Dean was holding and touching and kissing him.

* * * *

It's not really a question so Dean doesn't reply. He doesn't let go of Castiel's hand either, pulling him further inside the apartment, sinking down on the couch and pulling Castiel next to him. Raising a hand to card through his thick, dark hair, a pained expression spreads on Dean's face. Castiel looked so different, so pitifully slimmed-down, barely a shadow of the man Dean had met five months ago. "I'm gonna take care of you,” he finally says, slowly, making sure Castiel understands every single word "I can't promise that everything will be perfect... you know me... I fuck things up... but I promise- I swear that I will never, ever hurt you like this again..."

* * * *

Castiel knows he looks awful, but he hasn't had an appetite since the night Dean left. Food just tastes bland. Everything was bland without Dean around. Even work, his animation and art, had become tedious and more like actual work since Dean had left his life. Castiel had started living to sleep. In his dreams, Dean was there, holding him and loving him and being his. Every last bit of Dean was his in Castiel's dreams.

He just wasn't sure he could believe his dreams could ever be his reality.

Castiel leans in and softly presses his lips to Dean's, the tears that fall silent and warm, no longer painful and accompanied by sobs. He wraps one arm around Dean's neck, the other sliding under Dean's arm around his back, and he pulls Dean on top of him. Castiel needs to feel that Dean is real, needs to feel his heat and weight press down on top of him as he clings to him with kisses and caresses.

“I love you so much Dean... I... I always have...”

* * * *

The kiss is sweet, almost chaste - nothing at all like most of the kisses they had shared so far. It feels innocent and new. It feels like a first kiss should feel like, full of hope and promise and - finally - love.

"I know, baby,” Dean whispers against his oh so dry lips, darting out his tongue to moisten them, sucking in first his lower, then his upper lip "I missed you... I missed you so much, it hurt..."

* * * *

Castiel actually blushes when Dean calls him baby. First the nickname Cas, and now baby? Dean was spoiling him with nicknames, something that Castiel hadn't ever told anyone he loved, but he did. They were like small treasures, and every time someone called him by a nickname it made him feel special, loved, like they had chosen that name specifically for him because he meant something to them.

“Can you stay, now?”

He slides a hand up and into Dean's shaggy hair, noticing that it had grown out a little bit since they had last seen one another. Castiel looks up at it, then back down at Dean, hint of a hopeful smile on his lips.

* * * *

Mirroring Castiel, Dean smiles down on him, gently nibbling on his lips.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to,” he breathes against the slowly warming skin of the other man and bends down to kiss a trail down Castiel's neck, over his collarbones and as far as the opened upper buttons of his shirt let him. It's okay, Dean thinks. As long as he's here, holding Cas in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against his body, his breath brushing his skin. As long as Cas is his, Dean is okay.

* * * *

Castiel feels his breath hitch and he squirms a bit, dragging Dean back up to kiss him, away from the possibility of exposing more skin. He doesn't want Dean to see him naked, he's lost so much weight that he feels scrawny and pathetic now, and god, crying like this in front of Dean is embarrassing enough.

“Sorry...”

He bites his lower lip and then tucks his head down, burying it against Dean's neck and chest, shutting his eyes and mumbling out,

“I want you to stay forever... and I know how stupid that sounds... but... I can't help it Dean, I don't... I don't want you to go again...”

Castiel lets out a soft sigh and kisses Dean's neck, nipping softly at the warm skin he finds there. His breath is hot against Dean's ear as he speaks again, his long fingers delicately trailing their way through his hair and across Dean's back.

“I want to wake up to you.”

* * * *

Dean lets Castiel guide him upwards to kiss him again and pulls him in a tight embrace.

"Then forever it is,” he says after a moment of silence and turns his head to kiss Castiel's temple, his brow and his eyelids. "We had to be apart for too long now, Cas..."

And it's true. The time without Cas had been torturous. Not being able to call him, talk to him, touch him, kiss him, love him, had torn Dean apart, had made it hard to breathe and made him wonder ever so often how it was even possible for him to still be alive.

* * * *

Castiel hums in agreement, a soft sound in the back of his throat as he runs his hands over and through Dean's hair. He had missed this so much, just being in Dean's arms, shutting his eyes and breathing in his scent. Dean smelled clean now, like he had just showered, but maybe it was just his clothes- they smelled like laundry soap and softener. Castiel scoots down to breathe in the smell of Dean's neck, then his shirt, skating his hands down Dean's torso and up under his shirt to touch bare skin there. He had to touch more of Dean, wanted to relearn his body. He pauses his exploration and pulls back slightly as something hits him.

“... When did Lisa leave you..?”

Castiel had realized that he wasn't sure if Dean and Lisa had just split, or if it had happened weeks ago. He looks up into Dean's eyes, worry painted on his face. If Dean and Lisa had just split up, Dean was probably very sad- but that also meant that Dean had just run from one relationship's death into Castiel's arms... because Cas would always be there. The idea that Dean only came to him because Lisa had left him makes Castiel nauseous, like he'd eaten too much and his stomach was too full with worry and fear.

* * * *

He sees the anxiety in Castiel's eyes and isn't sure what to think of it at first.

"About a month ago,” he then says, quiet and slowly "After our... after we first slept together..."

Remembering this is painful, yet he owes Castiel this, owes him the truth even if it's not pleasant. He tells him about her realizing even before himself that Dean was in love with Castiel, that she couldn't take it and that she'd been the one to give him the final nudge in the right direction, by visiting him this morning and telling him to go live his life.

* * * *

A wave of relief washes over Castiel, quickly followed by guilt. He was the reason that Dean and Lisa had split. He had been the one to initiate the relationship with Dean, telling himself it would be enough. But it never was. He felt he could understand Lisa in that respect, because losing Dean's love had been the tipping point for her to say enough was enough.

“Is she... Is Lisa okay?”

Castiel's voice is tight again, barely choking out of his throat as his blue eyes search Dean's. He brushes a hand over Dean's cheek, leaning in to kiss his lips quickly, a peck, a reassurance. Castiel wasn't a cruel person, and the guilt he'd felt from the beginning about their affair was rising back up now that he knew for sure how sweet Dean's ex truly was. She had pushed Dean into his arms, while still grieving the loss of her fiancée. A flicker of a thought races through his head that Lisa had to be some kind of angel to let Dean go like that, so selflessly. Now that Castiel had him, he knew that he would never let go of Dean again. The thought makes Castiel tighten his arms around Dean unconsciously.

* * * *

Dean presses closer to Castiel, returning the kiss gently while raising a hand to cup his cheek.

"No," he says because it's true. How could she of all the people involved be okay? "No, she's not... but she said she wants me to be happy... and that being with her wouldn't be good for me..." He falls silent again, his own words cutting in his flesh like razorblades. It makes him returning to Cas sound so selfish, so ignorant towards Lisa - but he can't help it, he wants to be here so badly. "Cas, I love you so much,” he whispers against his lips before kissing him again, fierce and with more determination than before. "I just- I just don't wanna hurt anymore... I wanna be happy, I want you to be happy!"

* * * *

Castiel's lip twitches and for the first time in over a month, a real, true, delighted smile spreads over his face. It feels foreign and strange for a moment, using muscles that haven't been used like this in so long, but Castiel quickly lets go of that feeling and lets out a soft short laugh. He licks his lips and sighs, before giving Dean a look that just says 'you loveable idiot'.

"Dean...When I'm with you, I AM happy..."

He smiles again, his brow furrowed down as tears come back to his eyes. Castiel can't help it, he hates to cry like such a child, but everything he feels makes him want to just sob. The emotions are pouring into him from Dean and from himself, and mixing in a cacophony of happiness, sadness, relief, joy and guilt. Cas leans forward and kisses Dean again, wrapping his arms around the larger man's shoulders tight.

"I love you."

* * * *

7 months later

"Stop fidgeting, Cas!"

Dean's voice is low and only slightly annoyed but the look on his tanned face is tender and loving. It's a year, almost to the day, after they first met in the dark basement studio room. Dean's personal chauffeur cocks an eyebrow at them in the rearview mirror and Dean can't suppress a chuckle. "What?” Castiel asks him but Dean just shakes his head, ruffling a hand through his carefully styled hair and eliciting an exasperated groan from the other man. Once again, Castiel raises his shaky fingers to try fixing the bow tie around his neck and Dean leans forward to cup his hands with his own.

"You look perfect. Stop worrying."

With a smile he crosses the distance between them, kissing his lips until Cas stops arguing that "Dean, this is the Oscars!" and gives in. The limo comes to a halt soon and the driver turns his head, grinning at Dean and Castiel: "We're here, sirs."

Dean turns his head to look at Castiel who seems to be nauseous. The car door gets opened, granting a view to the bright, red carpet outside.

"Ready?" he asks, an encouraging smile on his lips, before swinging his long legs out of the car, turning around and offering Castiel his hand for the first time in public.

* * * *

Castiel can't breathe, or thinks he can't. This stupid bow tie is too tight, and the flash bulbs are blinding him, and there's so much smoke in the air from the photographers and crowds- but then Dean takes his hand. Castiel looks over at Dean and gives him a hesitant smile, which is returned with one of Dean's dazzling, patented grins, the same grin that Castiel fell in love with a year ago. And all the worries melt away as they walk down the red carpet hand in hand. The photographers yell out at the pair, and Castiel catches snippets of things that make him wince.

"Dean! Dean! Over here!" 

"You, pale guy, get out of the picture!"

"Dean, who's the guy with you?"

"Yeah, who's your date!"

"Dean-Dean-Dean!"

Dean lets go of Castiel's hand as one of the photographers is rather insistent about a photograph of Dean alone. Cas' heart sinks for a split second until he feels a tug around his waist as Dean pulls him close to his side, one arm clasped around Castiel's waist, holding on tight as Castiel leans into him. Castiel blushes, almost as red as the plush carpet they're standing on, and looks up at Dean with a wondering, wide eyed look.

Dean looks down at him and smirks.

"I got you."

* * * *

He feels Castiel's insecurity, knows how he's internally freaking out and already convincing himself that it would be best to jump back into the car and go home. Home sounded wonderful to Dean's ears but they both knew that this wasn't something he could cancel, not with him presenting an award that night. And Castiel knew that Dean hated this circus, the snobbish stars around them, chatting with each other and rubbing the interviewer's noses in their wealth. He needed Castiel here and when Dean put his arm around Castiel's waist, he feels the other man slightly relaxing. Of course, he can't be holding his hand all the time. Dean's press agent leads him to several interviewers, but only the most important, like FOX, ABC, and CNN. He signs some autographs - this being the part he enjoys most, getting in touch with his fans and actually talk to some of them for a few seconds - before he has to take a few pictures alone in front of the crowd. When he returns to Castiel, he once again takes his hand and squeezes it gently.

"You okay?" he asks him and gets a curt nod "Okay, we're going inside."

They leave the red carpet, Dean ignoring the paparazzi screaming his name and just smiling in a few cameras, not letting go of Castiel's hand. They get lead to their seats in the front part of the Kodak Theatre and sit down next to a bunch of other young actors. Dean greets them shortly but turns his head back at Castiel quickly. He spends the time until the ceremony finally starts with holding his hand, pointing inconspicuously at other celebrities, sharing stories about them that make Castiel laugh. He's with Cas for the first part of the show until during the second show act he has to go backstage to prepare his laudatory speech with Meg Masters, an actress he had been with in a sitcom in his early years.

"And now presenting the award for 'Best Director', please welcome Dean Winchester and Meg Masters."

It's strange, Dean has to admit. He wasn't all that excited when he was being asked to present an award but now that he's walking towards the speaker's desk on the most important stage of the world, millions and billions of eyes on him, he feels his knees getting weak. He tightens his grip on Meg's arm, feeling her squeezing back reassuringly.

"Wow, good evening everybody,” he says, once they reached their position, looking around, trying desperately not to look at special faces but just above those numerous heads, staring at him. Meg says her lines professionally, drops some anecdotes and then shuffles closer, improvising and obviously flirting with him. Dean gulps and shoots her a look that says 'what the hell, girl?' before his trademark smile returns on his face and he turns to look back at the audience.

"If you ask Wikipedia, 'Directors are responsible for overseeing creative aspects of a film. They often develop the vision for a film and carry the vision out, deciding how the film should look.' If you ask me, directors are magicians. They create things out of pure imagination. They bring characters to life; give them a heart, a soul, a body and a platform to transport their message. A director has to love his work with every fiber of his being in order to being able to enchant others, to fascinate them and, well, to create a blockbuster in order to pay for everything his visions cost the studios." He earns laughter from the audience but he doesn't care. His eyes had found Castiel, sitting at his seat, looking at him with big eyes and a wide smile. Meg steps forward and the nominees are shown on the big screen before the theatre falls silent again. Together they open the envelope, Meg pulling out and announcing the winner. The audience cheers and applauds but Dean just keeps looking at Castiel, returning his smile and winking at him.

He opens his lips and mouths 'I love you,’ fairly certain that a bunch of TV cameras are directed at him.

* * * *

Castiel's sure that he's burning the people around him with how hot his face feels when Dean mouths those words at him, but he grins anyway, even wider than before.

'I love you, too,’ he mouths back, and a camera that was searching the audience for the person Dean had been speaking to catches him. For weeks after this night, they would be replaying those moments on news shows, talk shows and online. But for now, neither of them knows, or cares. The only thing Castiel can see in all the bright lights, glittering dresses and laughing stars that night is Dean.

His Dean, absolutely breathtakingly handsome standing on that stage in his tux, smiling only for him.

At the after party, they wander around, hand in hand, fingers intertwined, talking with more actors and actresses than Castiel has ever seen in his entire life. He meets countless people who smile and shake his hand, and the whole thing is a little intimidating. But Dean has his hand, and in this private setting he doesn't have to let it go except to grab them both some wine or to shake a producer's hand.

Castiel watches Dean whenever someone isn't speaking directly to him, loving how his teeth flash or his dimples show up when he grins. He has to admit that his favorite part about the night is how Dean introduces him to people when they ask Dean who his date is.

"This is Castiel," he says with an affectionate smile as he turns his head to look at the blushing man standing beside him.

Just Castiel. Not my boyfriend, or my lover, or my deep dark hidden secret.

Just Castiel.

Everyone in the room can see that 'This is Castiel' means so much more than the words say. Dean hasn't smiled like this in years, not this openly or honestly. And the way his eyes soften when he looks at Castiel, and the way the smaller man looks back, in awe of Dean, speaks volumes more than his introduction of the man ever could.

* * * *

It's almost 4 am when Dean dips his head to gently nudge at Castiel’s neck, signaling him that he wants to go. They don't make a big deal out of it, just casually walking towards the exit, getting their coats and getting in the limo. Castiel nestles up against Dean in the back of the car, his eyes heavy and half-closed, a tired yawn on his lips. Dean wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer and stroking his arm until they reach their house half an hour later. It's not too big, just a little place outside of Los Angeles with a clear view over the Hollywood Hills and the city. After everything, Dean had decided letting Lisa keep their apartment would be the least he could do. So he and Castiel had found this place and fallen in love with it. There was a giant living room, two bathrooms, a computer room where Castiel would work on his animations until late in the night until Dean hugged him from behind, telling him grumpily to 'come to bed already,’ a bedroom other people could only dream about, an enormous swimming pool and a patio with a separate barbeque area, where Dean still hosted his famous Caribbean Nights every so often. Castiel had woken up when they had pulled into the driveway but Dean, a little tipsy and completely high on love, bent down and lifted Castiel up into his arms to carry him inside, chuckling at the sweet sounds of embarrassment the other man made. He kicked the door shut behind him, carrying Castiel up into their bedroom before finally dropping him down on the large bed, crawling over him with a wide smile.

"You hated it, right?" he says, touching his nose with his own, before lying down next to him, intertwining their fingers once again. Castiel chuckles at that, softly shaking his head and turning to look into Dean's eyes.

"It wasn't that bad,” Cas says, still smiling and then shrugs, his cheeks blushing "Everything is so much better when you're there."

Returning the smile, Dean squeezes Castiel's hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it with so much love and gratitude in his eyes that it makes Castiel's chest tighten with bliss.

"I love you,” Dean breathes against his skin and still, after all this time, feels Castiel shiver at this declaration, before he repeats the sweet words with just as much affection.

And when Dean captures his lips in a tender kiss, Castiel thinks that, yes - this is enough.


End file.
